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Tales of Foreign Lands. 

A Series of Stories for the Young. 


COUKCTED BY 


REV. JOSEPH SPILLMANN, S. J. 


VOL. VI. 

Three Indian Tales. 


ST. LOUIS, MO. 1897. 
Published by B. HERDER, 
17 South Broadway. 


THREE INDIiN TALES, 

ti 


Namameha and Watomilka, 

B Y 

Alexander Baumgartner, S. J. 


Tahko, The Young Indian Missionary, 

BY, 

A. V. B. 


Father Rene's Last Journey, 

B Y 

Anton Huonder, S. J. 


Translated from the German 
B Y 

Miss Helena Long. 



ST. I.OUIS, MO. 1897. 
published byB. HERDER, 
17 South Broadway. 






Copyright 1897, 
by 

Jos. Gummersbach. 





-BECKTOLD- 

PRINTING AND BOOK MFG. CO. 
ST. LOUIS, MO. 


CONTENTS. 


FIRST TALE. 

Namameha and Watomilka. 

Page 

I. The Loghouse by the Lake - - - 9 

II. The Sudden Attack _ _ . , 14 

III. Among the Indians 17 

IV. Namameha 21 

V. Watomilka - 26 

VI. The Dream 30 

VII. The Buffalo Hunt 36 

VIII. The Flight ------ 42 


SECOND TALE. 

Tahko, the Young Indian Missionary. 

I. The Return Home and the Disappointment 49 

II. A Great Resolution 58 

III. A Fortunate Meeting - - - - 61 

IV. Joyous Prospects 80/ 

V. Great Losses and Great Gains - - 80 


THIRD TALE. 

Father Eonc^s Last Journey. 


105 


I 


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Namameha and Watomilka, 

B Y 


Alexander Baumgartner, S. J. 



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1 . 


The Loghouse near the Lake. 

A missionary — Fr. Prando, S. J. — who 
travelled from Italy to America in order to 
convert the poor Indians, told us in one of 
his letters a very beautiful and true story. 
We are now going to tell it to you, not in 
the few brief words which the missionary 
wrote, but more in detail so that our young 
friends may read it with pleasure. 

Close by the Rocky lake stood the lonely 
loghouse of a French settler, who about 
the time of the great revolution emigrated 
across the wide ocean to North America. 
It was a very simple building made out of 
the trunks of trees which rested horizontally 
one on the other, and were securely fastened 
with wedges into perpendicular posts, the 
interstices of which were filled up with moss 
to keep out the cold winds and make the 
house warm and comfortable for the winter. 
At the time we are speaking of, which was 
about the beginning of August, the outer 

( 9 ) 


10 Namameha and Watomilka. 

walls were covered with the beautiful red- 
colored leaves of the wild vine and other 
chmbing plants, from between which the 
small windows looked out upon a garden 
planted partly with flowers and partly with 
the ordinary vegetables of our European 
gardens. Eound this habitation a strong 
rampart of pointed stakes stood prominent ; 
before it lay a deep moat supphed with 
water from a neighboring rivulet which 
emptied itself into the lake not far from the 
little height on which the loghouse stood. 
All around this enclosure were to be seen 
fields which the settler had cleared within 
the last three years from the wooded banks 
of the lake. Here grew quantities of fine 
maize — a superior kind of Indian corn — 
and that not to be despised bulbous root, 
the potato, which the English explorer, 
Francis Drake, brought with him from 
America to Europe for the nourishment of 
so many thousands of our poor. It had 
cost Mr. Leblanc much hard labor to clear 
this rugged tract of ground from the forest 
of primeval growth which still stretched 
itself along the lake and the plantation. 
There was a similar clearing with another 


NamameJia and Watomilka, 11 

planter’s house in the dim distance on the 
opposite bank of the lake. There were also 
other settlements around, but they were for 
the most part, a mile and a half or three 
miles distant from each other, and, about 
twelve miles off, a fort had been erected for 
the protection of the settlers. From this 
fort small divisions of troops were constantly 
ranging in all directions so as to keep the 
Dakotas in check who, after a long and 
desperate war, had retreated from that part 
and taken up their abode in the forest on 
the western side, but who from time to 
time made furious attempts to drive away 
the white men. 

Mr. Leblanc was a brave man and he did 
not fear these savages, but he took all the 
necessary precautions for the protection of 
his family and home ; he kept up a constant 
friendly intercourse with the neighboring 
settlers and with the fort, and from year to 
year increased and improved his beautiful 
estate. His wife and child, the little Marie, 
were at first somewhat timid in the silence 
and lonehness of the forest — so near to the 
wild and cruel Indians. But when three years 
had passed peacefully by, they gradually 


12 Namamelia and Watomilka. 

lost all fear. Twice the Indians had even 
come quite in a friendly spirit to the farm 
and offered furs for sale — skins of beavers, 
otters and other animals, and asked only a 
reasonable price for them. 

The planter wholly absorbed in examining 
and counting the skins, and settling for the 
payment of them, did not notice that two 
of the savages were restlessly spying about 
the premises, apparently measuring with 
their eyes the door and windows, the height 
of the palisade, the breadth of the moat etc. 
and whispering to each other unintelligible 
words in their own language, then walking 
to and fro in the garden, only returning to 
the gate when the old Indian, having con- 
cluded the bargain, called them and showed 
them their share. Mr. Leblanc suspecting 
nothing, and well pleased with his purchase, 
went back to his wife and child, whilst the 
Indians leaping upon their horses, soon 
disappeared in the darkness of the forest. 

want to ride!’^ said little Marie, when 
she saw how the Indians took their children 
on their horses with them; ^^Mama, let me 
ride too! 


Namameha and Watomilka, 13 

The planter could not help laughing at 
this fancy of his dear httle one; but the 
mother was grieved to see that Marie was 
becoming as wild and restless as a boy. 
And now when her mother would not hear 
anything about riding, the little girl became 
very angry, she pouted and said: want 
to be an Indian too.’’ 


II. 


The Sudden Attack. 

Little Marie’s wish was destined to be 
fulfilled in a very sad way. Two days had 
passed since the last visit of the Indians. 
Everything was going on as usual. Mr. 
Leblanc was busily engaged clearing a fresh 
piece of the forest. All day long the dull 
thud of the axe resounded along the lake 
and became still more muffled as it echoed 
back from the opposite woods. Now and 
then a great crash announced the fall of a 
tree. It would have been too dangerous to 
effect the clearing by setting fire to the 
wood on account of the dwelling house 
being so near. 

Marie was really a good-hearted child, so 
after weeping for a while, she submitted 
dutifully to her mother’s decision that she 
was not to ride, but to help her in the 
household duties. ^^Yes, Mama,” said she, 
“I have been naughty but I will be good 
now and stay with you.” And she went 

( 14 ) 


Namameha and Watomilka. 15 

cheerfully with her mother to the storeroom 
and stretched out her little arms to receive 
the packages which her mother handed 
down to her. Then she followed her into 
the kitchen and brought the chips of wood 
and placed them in readiness to make the 
fire, and thus she helped her mother during 
the whole day. 

The two next days passed in like manner, 
but the following night they were all awoke 
out of their first sleep by the terrible cry : 
‘‘Up! up! the Indians! 

They had scarcely had time to throw on 
their clothes, when a swarm of Indians, 
uttering wild and savage cries, penetrated 
into the peaceful settlement ; set fire to the 
barn, and began to attack the door of the 
homestead. Unutterable terror seized the 
poor inmates. There was no possibility of 
sending anyone to the next settlement to 
raise an alarm. The planter grasped his 
gun in desperation and stood before the 
door determined if possible to defend his 
family, whilst the servants also took up 
arms and placed themselves at the windows ; 
the terrified mother wrung her hands in 


16 Narnanieka and Watomilha, 

desolation and she and her child prayed 
fervently for help. 

A. shot struck the foremost Indian to the 
ground. The others recoiled for a moment 
from the door. But before Leblanc could 
load again a shower of arrows whizzed 
through the open window and, struck by 
one of these poisoned darts, he fell lifeless 
to the ground. The servants succeeded in 
avenging the death of their master, for they 
shot down several of the Indians ; but the 
others with fearful yells only advanced the 
more savagely, burst open the doors, and 
uttering their terrible war-cry, plundered 
the dwelling-house and slaughtered all its 
inhabitants. The poor weeping child who 
clung tightly to the corpse of her mother, 
alone was saved. One of the Indians was 
already brandishing his tomahawk over her 
head, when the chief threw himself between 
them, snatched the child from the dead 
body of her mother, took her with the 
remainder of the spoil on his horse and 
rode off vdth her into the dark and fearful 
forest, which the bright flames of the blazing 
settlement made to look still more awful, 


III. 


Among the Indians. 

Little Marie never thought her wish to 
ride and to become an Indian would be 
fulfilled in such a dreadful way. There she 
was like a defenseless lamb amongst these 
cruel wolves. She did not understand a 
word the Indian said to her, and he did not 
appear to understand her lamentations. 
More dead than alive she rested in front of 
him on the saddle against his left arm 
whilst he curbed his horse with the right. 
When she came to hex^self again, her cries 
were enough to melt a stone. Trembling 
in every limb she looked up at the fierce 
chief and he tried to quiet her; but his 
appearance was nothing less than dreadful 
with the waving feather ornament, the 
fluttering tuft of hair, the ill-favored dusky 
face, and what he said sounded more like 
the howling of a wild beast than the speech 
of a human being, and the poor child could 
not control her outbursts of grief and terror. 

( 17 ) 


18 Namameha m?d Watomilka. 

They rode on thus for a great many miles 
and towards day-break arrived at a clearing 
in the forest where they halted. The savage 
lifted little Marie from the horse and, taking 
a piece of Indian corn-cake and a dried fish 
from his hunter’s pouch gave them to her. 
The poor child felt the deepest repugnance 
for the rude unsavory food, but hunger at 
last conquered her aversion and she ate the 
rough, burnt and blackened corn-cake. In 
the meantime the horse also was fed. The 
other Indians came up soon after and took 
their morning meal. Then they all rode on 
farther and farther into the forest until 
they came to a similar but much more 
extensive clearing. 

There stood about twenty miserable hovels 
constructed of perpendicular posts placed 
in a circle in the ground and wattled with 
branches and the bark of trees. Thick 
smoke issuing from a great many of them, 
and on the open spaces between these wig- 
wams, several fires were blazing around 
which some half-naked children lay, whilst 
their mothers baked their corn-cakes. 
Other children came creeping out of the 
holes which served as entrances to the huts. 


Namameha and WatomUhi. 19 

As the horses came galloping in, a loud and 
joyful cry arose. The Indians flung down 
from their horses the booty which they had 
brought with them, in particular the still 
bleeding scalps of the white men whom they 
had killed. 

Poor little Marie was still in an agony of 
fear. She called for her father and mother 
and prayed Almighty G-od and our Blessed 
Lady to help her ; but the savages did not 
understand what she said. She was half 
fainting from grief and terror when the 
chief lifted her from the horse and placed 
her on the ground before one of the huts. 
The Indian women and children came out 
of curiosity and looked at the trembling 
little white girl, who was crying and trying 
to hide herself from them. Savages as they 
were, a kind of pity seemed to move them. 
They made a little bed in one of the huts 
and laid her down to rest. 

Meanwhile buffalo hides were spread out 
on the ground in a wide circle. The Indian 
riders freed themselves of their weapons, 
bows, arrows, hunting-knives and toma- 
hawks, and lay down on the skins upon the 
ground. A great pipe was lighted, each 


20 Namamelia and Watomilka. 

one took a whiff and passed it on. Those 
who had been engaged in the night attack, 
related their terrible adventures . The others 
broke out from time to time into loud shouts 
of joy. At length the booty was dmded. 
The little white girl whom they had brought 
away a prisoner, was, in accordance with 
the wishes of the greater number of them, 
to be put to death, but the chief frowned 
fiercely upon these barbarians and claimed 
the child as his own share. 

All opposition was silenced when grasping 
the tomahawk at his side, he swung it in a 
threatening manner three times in the air 
as a sign that he would if necessary enforce 
his will by the use of this weapon. He 
explained to them that he intended to bring 
the child up with liis own children, and 
when she grew up to give her to one of his 
sons for a wife. From this time forth she 
was to be called Namameha. 


IV. 


Namameha. 

The child was no longer called Marie, but 
Namameha. The poor httle girl, as the 
result of all the fear and anguish, and the 
grief and agitation of that dreadful night, 
fell into a high fever. She lay for many 
days between life and death . In her delirium 
she often called out: ^‘Papa, let me ride!’’ 
Then she cried out again suddenly: 
‘^Mother, are you dead! . . . O mother, 
mother ! I will be good ! I will never disobey 
you any more — Jesus! Mary! Joseph! 
have pity on me! ” Then she would laugh 
and say: give me the pretty little dress 

and feather ornament! ” For six long days 
the unhappy child spoke or dreamed and 
prayed thus. 

Watowala, the chief’s wife had made her 
a little bed with buffalo skins, wool and 
moss, and had bathed her forehead from 
time to time with cold water, and watched 
beside her almost night and day. Much as 
(21) 


22 Namameha and Watomilka. 

she hated white people, she pitied this 
helpless child, she herself did not know 
why. Surely protecting angels must have 
been watching over the poor forsaken little 
one, who loved our dear Lord and His 
blessed Mother so tenderly! 

As the fever did not abate, the woman 
went to one of the Jossakeeds, that is sor- 
cerers, and asked him to come and see what 
could be done for their poor prisoner. He 
came with his medicine bag — a great leather 
bag made of otter skins. In it were all 
sorts of roots, yarrow, balm, mint, the 
rattles of the rattle snake, monkeys’ teeth 
and various kinds of herbs. He first danced 
frantically round the hut, then he stepped 
inside, blew in the face of the sick maiden, 
took a piece of charcoal, drew a figure on a 
piece of wood which was intended to repre- 
sent the illness, took his knife and pierced 
the piece of wood and then threw it on the 
fire. But the fever was not gone, on the 
contrary it had increased. 

During all this time of delirium the girl 
continued to pray as before. Little by 
httle the fever left her and she gradually 
recovered. Although at this time she 


Namameha and Watomilka, 23 

would have been very glad if the good Grod 
had taken her to Himself in heaven, there 
to meet her dear parents again, still at 
length she grew accustomed to her fate. 
When she was restored to health everything 
appeared to her like a frightful dream. 
Watowala was so kind that she had faith in 
her. She drank the milk and ate the corn- 
cakes which her Indian foster-mother 
brought her. She soon learnt a few words 
of the Indian language and was able to 
make herself understood by Watowala. 
When she was quite strong again, the Indian 
children came and played with her, and 
called her Namameha. In vain she told 
them that her name was Marie — not Nania- 
meha. They continued to call her by that 
name and in time she became accustomed 
to it. 

She often wandered about in copse and 
wood with the other children, ran after 
cockchafers and butterflies, looked for birds’ 
nests, or caught birds in traps. Then she 
would imitate her companions when they 
climbed trees, or threw themselves into the 
water when they came to a lake and taught 
themselves to swim. Thus she became 


24 Namameha and Watomilka, 

strong and healthy, but wilder than ever. 
The clothes which she had on when she 
came were already torn to pieces with the 
thorns ; so she wore a little frock made of 
skins. Her complexion grew darker. Lines 
had been made on her cheeks and these had 
been filled in with coal-dust. She looked 
very ugly now, but the Indians liked her 
appearance much better. 

As soon as Namameha had learnt to speak 
the language, she far-outstripped the other 
children. She understood and retained 
everything much better than they. She 
learnt to make the corn-cakes which the 
Indians use as bread, to roast, grind and 
cook the maize — also to prepare from the 
sap of the birch a beverage which they 
drink on feast days, to gather and dry the 
tobacco leaves and to prepare the skins of 
animals for clothes, and indeed all else that 
fell to the duty of the women and girls to 
do. She was so clever at all this that the 
others highly esteemed her and the chief 
loved her as if she were his own child. But 
well as she was cared for she had no one who 
could speak to her of God; there was no 
church and no prayers, no priests and no 


Namameha and Watornilka. 


25 


books. Every morning and evening the 
poor forlorn child knelt and said an ^^Our 
Father,’^ a ^‘Hail Mary’^ and the ^^Creed^^ 
these were the only prayers she knew. But 
Grod protected and preserved her from all 
the dark superstition of the Indians. 


Y. 


Watomilka. 

When Namameha grew up the chief gave 
her to his eldest son, who was called the 
‘‘Brown Bear,’’ as his wife. There was a 
great feast when the wedding took place, 
but a still greater feast was kept when Na- 
mameha gave birth to a little boy and he 
was named Watomilka. 

After the custom of the Indian women or 
squaws, as they were called there, Nama- 
meha made a cradle for her baby out of 
buffalo leather which she carefully stretched 
on a wooden frame. She placed a bed of 
soft fur or down upon it, and in it the child 
was laid and warmly covered with a choice 
fur and secured by leather straps. There 
was also a plaited hood to protect it from 
the sun and rain; in this kind of cradle 
Namameha carried her httle one fastened by 
a strap to her own head, and thus was he 
conveyed from one encampment to another 
and to all the hunts, fetes, meetings, and 
( 26 ) 


NarnameJia and Watomilka, 27 

robbing expeditions, till ho was able to walk 
alone. 

Namameha had never seen anyone bap- 
tized, so she was not able to baptize her 
dear child. But she made the sign of the 
cross on his forehead every night and morn- 
ing as she commended him to the good God, 
beseeching Him to lead the boy with her to 
Christians, that he might be preserved from 
the vices of the Indians, and one day go to 
dwell with Him in heaven. 

As the child grew older and learnt to 
speak, she explained to him the meaning of 
the sign of the cross and spoke to him about 
Almighty God, the Divine Redeemer and His 
blessed Mother. She also taught him all the 
prayers she knew — the ^^Our Father,’’ the 
^^Hail Mary”, and the ^^Creed.” 

Thus prayed this forlorn mother and her 
child to the true God in the midst of these 
idolatrous and superstitious Indians. She 
wanted to lead her husband, the chief, to 
the knowledge of the true God, but he 
believed steadfastly in all the Jossakeeds, 
the sorcerers, said and therefore refused to 
listen to anything about our dear Lord. 
The God whom he worshipped was the 


28 Namamelia and Watomilka. 

Great Spirit, which he represented to himself 
as a gigantic bird which had come down 
from heaven and had covered the earth with 
its wings. The Indians believed that when 
this spirit was angry it hghtened and when 
it thundered it was in consequence of its 
flapping its wings; they also believed the 
earth to be only an egg wiiich had been 
laid by this god in the primeval days, or 
the first ages. Further, they believed this 
bird had brought fire to the earth, and so 
in commemoration of that event they fight 
their pipes in his honor: Great Spirit! 
Come down to me and smoke the pipe of 
friendship with me! Fire and earth smoke 
with me, and help me to destroy my enemies ! 
My dogs and horses also smoke with me! ’’ 
Thus prayed the Indian chief whilst his 
wife invoked the true God ; for he thought 
of nothing but hunting and war and the 
destruction of his enemies. This was a 
great grief to Namameha because war was 
carried on with extreme cruelty. Every 
enemy was killed and scalped. She was 
more especially grieved when one day the 
tribe to which she belonged suddenly at- 
tacked a company of wdiite men who were 


Namameha and Wat om ilka. 29 

conducting a number of wagons and were 
going out to found a new settlement. The 
cunning savages were soon on their track 
and following them stealthily, hid them- 
selves behind a range of hills, and then 
came upon them suddenly one night just as 
they had fallen asleep peacefully in their little 
encampment. Vainly Namameha hoped to 
save them. All were remorselessly slaugh- 
tered. 


VI. 


The Dream. 

The ^^Brown Bear” was very pleased with 
his wife. Slie worked more industriously 
than any of the other Indian women, she 
kept the hut ^beautifully clean, baked the 
best maize-bread and knew how to dress 
the skins better than any other squaw. 
Whilst the others were often impatient, 
peevish and unhappy, she was always as 
patient and resigned as if she were only a 
slave who had been born to hard work. 
The Brown Bear” forgave her therefore 
when she took no part in the cruel feasts in 
which the captured enemies were tortured 
to death, but always found something to do 
in the hut so as to avoid seeing such a sad 
spectacle. He did not interfere with her 
when she prayed, and he was not offended 
when she would not take any of the sorcerer’s 
remedies. 

But the boy Watomilka was in accord- 
ance with his father’s express wish, to be 

( 30 ) 


Namamelia and Watomilka. 31 

brought up a real Indian, wild, fierce, blood- 
thirsty, a furious warrior and a terror to all 
his enemies. Even whilst he was an infant, 
he was laid on a bear’s skin and his father 
invoked the G-reat Spirit thus : ^ ^ Great Spirit ! 
Let the strength of the bear pass into the 
boy’s body, let his arms become as bears’ 
claws, that he may be able to crush the 
bones of his enemies and bring their scalps 
home to his hut! ” 

As the boy grew older his father brought 
him squirrels, birds and other small animals, 
in order that he might torment them as the 
other Indian children did and so get accus- 
tomed to acts of cruelty. The boys pulled 
out the wings of the poor birds, cut the feet 
off the squirrels with a scalp knife and then 
cut off their legs piece by piece and lastly 
stabbed them repeatedly till they died in 
the greatest agony. Then they besmeared 
their faces with the blood, tore the skins off 
the animals and fastened them as scalps in 
their own particular part of their hut. The 
more of such scalps a boy had, the prouder 
he was. The elder children had to help to 
torture the captured enemies to death, to 
stab them, burn them, cut off their fingers 


32 Namameha and Watoinilha. 

and toes and mock and taunt them in their 
sufferings. 

The httle Indians took great delight in 
these cruel sports, but not so little Wato- 
milka. His mother had told him that the 
G-reat Spirit of the Christians created both 
men and animals, and that it grieved Him 
when anyone tortured them. Watomilka 
was gentle and kind-hearted like his mother. 
He would neither chop off the beautiful 
bushy tails of the squirrels nor tear out the 
wings of the poor birds. His father was 
very vexed about this, because he was afraid 
his son would never be a brave man, and 
would expose his name to ridicule. So he 
took the boy away from his mother and 
gave him to another family to be brought 
up more in accordance with his wishes. 

This was a great grief to Namameha, but 
she was powerless to hinder it. She there- 
fore commended her child to the All-merciful 
God and tried to submit to her fate as well as 
she could. The wicked woman into whose 
care Watomilka was given, often beat him 
because he was not so barbarous as the 
other children and would not torture ani- 
mals. But it made no difference in him. 


Namameha and Watoniilka. 33 

On the other hand he was foremost of all in 
running, climbing and swimming and was 
so big and strong, so brave and clever that 
they all learnt to respect and value him. 
His father even changed his opinion about 
his being a coward. Still he would not let 
him go back to his mother. The ^^Brown 
Bear’’ was very stern with poor Namameha, 
he made her work hard and she had, like 
the rest of the Indian women, to drag heavy 
bundles of hay and rice for miles at a time. 

Now the Indians believe that the age 
of fourteen is the most important and 
decisive one in the whole of one’s life, and 
that upon the dreams a boy has at that age 
his whole future career will depend. In 
these dreams they believe will appear to 
him the guardian spirit which will direct 
him throughout his life and entirely control 
his destiny. Now in order to have these 
dreams every boy has to go and shut him- 
self up in a small hut in the wilderness and 
there fast and dream for over a month, 
until at length his guardian spirit, generally 
under the form of some animal, appears to 
him. At one time it is a beaver, at another 
a wild cat, a weasel or a bear. When the 


34 Namameha and Watomilka. 

boy has seen his guardian or protecting 
spirit he must go and hunt until he has 
killed whatever animal appeared to him in 
his dream. The skin of this animal is then 
looked upon as the most powerful means of 
protection in all the dangers of life, and 
the youth obtains through its means the 
distinctive qualities of this animal : he be- 
comes nimble as a weasel, formidable as a 
bear, strong as a buffalo, etc. 

So Watomilka was obliged to go and fast 
in the wilderness. He was shut up in a 
dark hut and got nothing to eat until after 
sunset, when he had only a few hard roots 
and some water. He lay the whole day 
long on a mat trying to dream as he had 
been bidden. Every day he became weaker 
and more low-spirited, and fell at last into 
that half-stupified state in which the others 
were accustomed to dream. But no bear, 
beaver, eagle or crow appeared to him. 
He dreamed constantly of the white men 
his mother had told him about, who lived 
far away in the land where the sun rises, 
and they seemed to him to resemble that 
luminary, so bright and beautiful were they. 
They came in great canoes across the sea, 


NamameJia and Watomilka. 35 

and as they advanced the lightning flashed 
and the thunder rolled in such terrible peals 
that the whole forest seemed to quake, 
which so terrified the redskins that they ran 
away frightened. These wonderful white 
men landed, cleared large tracts of the forest 
and converted them into beautiful fields. 
He thought he saw all that; for Namameha 
had described it all to him so vividly in 
times past. Whilst the other Indians ran 
back into the forest frightened, he stayed 
with the white men and smoked the pipe of 
peace with them. Such was the dream of 
Watomilka. 


Vll, 

The Buffalo Hunt. 


When the boy had fasted and dreamed 
thirty-six days, his father came to the hut 
and wanted to know what kind of dream he 
had had, and under the form of what animal 
his protecting spirit had appeared to him. 
But how astounded and angry he was when 
Watomilka told him he had seen no animal, 
but only the white men who come from the 
land where the sun rises. He became quite 
furious on hearing the youth enthusiastically 
describe the settlement of the white men, 
and, in his first outburst of rage, he was 
almost ready to run him through with his 
spear. 

‘^So you saw no bear thenT^ 

^‘No beaver 
‘^No squirrel?’^ 

— Then the Indian asked rapidly 
after a whole string of other animals, and 
always received the same negative answer. 

( 36 ) 


Naniameha and Watomilka, 37 

‘‘Had the white men no animals with 
them?'’ 

“No, but they killed buffalos with a tube 
out of which lightning came." 

This appeased the incensed father, who 
was now convinced the buffalo was to be 
his son's protecting spirit and he was quite 
satisfied with his protector. For he hoped 
Watomilka would be strong and warlike 
like this wild beast of the prairie. So it 
was an understood thing that Watomilka 
was to hunt a buffalo and gain for himself, 
by the possession of its skin, protection and 
help during the whole of his life. But from 
that day the “Brown Bear" took a great 
dislike to his wife and was undecided as to 
whether he should kill her or cast her off. 

Before he made up his mind which he 
would do, he resolved to go out and hunt the 
buffalo with Watomilka which was to make 
him for the rest of his life a victorious 
warrior and the terror of all his enemies. 

A vast number of these beasts roamed 
about in a valley situated not far from the 
colony of the Indians and only separated 
from it by a steep ridge of hills, which 


38 Namameha and Watomilka. 

enclosed it in a large circle by its rugged 
sharply indented heights. In the damp 
low ground of the valley, the grass grew 
almost to the height of a man. Buffalos 
are bigger than the strongest oxen and 
are more nimble than they, although the 
enormous head of the buffalo sits more 
heavily and awkwardly on its broad neck 
than that of an ox. 

This time every member of the tribe was 
expected to go and witness the bravery of 
Watomilka. They commenced by setting 
fire here and there to the brushwood for a 
long way round and thus drove all the 
animals together into the middle of the 
circle. The Indians, desiring to be lighter 
and more nimble, did not wear their full 
war dress on this occasion, but only a 
short garment round their loins and the 
usual feather ornaments on their heads. 

Some carried a bundle of javelins and a 
heavy spear, others bows and arrows. Thus 
equipped they rushed on their fleet steeds 
at a furious gallop into the centre of the 
valley. Watomilka rode his father’s best 
horse and carried the best spear. Oh, what 
a fearful confusion it was! Driven out by 


Namameha and Watomilka. 39 

the fire, stupefied by the smoke, excited by 
the noise of the Indians, the buffalos ran 
with their heads bent down, by flocks in all 
directions; some running in between the 
riders, others roaring savagely at the horses. 
Their dull threatening roar resounded aw- 
fuUy over the valley. Several of the horses 
shied and reared and it was only by dint of 
wonderful dexterity on the part of their 
riders, that they could be restrained. Others 
which were already accustomed to battle, 
sprang neighing upon the shaggy monsters. 
Arrows whizzed, lances rushed through the 
air. The Indians wild and confused, shouted 
one against another. With mar^-elous 
security they guided their horses, provoked 
the buffalo, turned sharply whilst the 
animal with bent head rushed towards them, 
and brought down upon him the decisive 
blow from the side. 

Watomilka slew the first buffalo which 
attacked him. Loud shouts of joy hailed 
his victory. The animal had rushed upon 
the forefeet of his horse, but at the same 
moment, he pierced him through with his 
spear and the powerful beast sank down 
groaning. Watomilka’s father was how- 


40 Namamelia and Watomilka. 

ever not so fortunate. Whilst he was in 
the act of raising his lance against one of 
the buffalos, in the confusion an arrow 
aimed by one of the other Indians, struck 
him in the back; he sank to the ground 
heavily wounded, and the enraged animal 
was just about to catch him on his horns, 
when Watomilka sprang forward and with 
one unerring stroke stretched the buffalo to 
the earth. 

But it was too late. A few minutes after- 
wards Watomilka’s father expired ! The 
arrow had penetrated to his heart. 

Cries of lamentation were intermingled 
with the shouts of victory. One of the 
strongest of the Indians lifted the body of 
the deceased ^^Brown Bear^^ on to his horse 
and bound him tightly on it. With subdued 
cries they pursued their way home. Nama- 
meha, who had no suspicion of the design 
which the dead man had cherished against 
her in his mind, received the corpse with a 
flood of tears. She forgot and forgave all 
the pain which he had caused her. But 
she resolved nevertheless on putting into 
execution at once a plan she had often 
thought over during her sufferings, and 


Namameha and Watomilka. 41 

had as frequently rejected, but which not- 
withstanding returned to her mind again 
and again and never failed to move her 
heart anew. 


VIII. 


The Flight. 

you flee with meT’ said Namameha 
to her son, when in the evening the crowd 
of mourners had returned to their huts and 
they were alone with the dead body. 

^^Flee, Namameha? Whereto?’’ 

^^To the white men whom you saw in 
your dream. They are the protecting spirits 
whom the Great Spirit has given you. I, 
your mother, am a white woman. Your 
father’s father stole me out of the eastern 
land where the white men dwell. Let us 
go back to them.” 

^^But who then will avenge my father’s 
blood upon the hound who struck him with 
the arrow?” 

Leave vengeance to the Great Spirit 
who has no pleasure in the blood which we 
shed.” 

And the mother made the sign of the 
cross on his forehead. In silent wonder- 
ment Watomilka looked at her, stared at the 

( 42 ) 


Namameha and Watomilka. 43 

fire which was burning before the entrance 
of the hut, then looked once more on the 
painfully disfigured, wild, frightful coun~ 
tenance of his dead father. 

At last, he looked up and said: ^^So be 
it! I will go with you where the G-reat 
Spirit calls us. But let us first sing my 
father’s death song.” 

The death song was sung. On the next 
day the body was taken out into the forest 
and laid on a mat which was fastened to 
four posts. The scalps which the dead man 
had gathered together in his hut were laid 
beside him, in order that the spirits of these 
slaughtered enemies might, as the Indians 
believe, be his slaves in the other life. His 
weapons and amulets and also some food 
for the night, were laid at his side; for 
these savages believe the dead hunt in far- 
off lands during the day, but come back to 
their graves at night to eat and rest. 

When all the honors with which the 
Indians are accustomed to bury their dead 
had been paid to the Brown Bear,” Wato- 
milka saddled two horses in the middle of 
the night. Namameha mounted one and 
he the other. Then after taking leave of 


44 Namameha and Watomilka, 

the father^s grave, they rode off into the 
forest towards the far-off land in the east. 

Days and weeks passed. They had to 
force their way through thick w'oods and 
over foaming streams ; yet they did not lose 
courage. After thirty days of wearisome 
travelling they reached the lake, and Nama- 
meha soon recognized the spot where she 
spent her earliest years. But there were no 
longer isolated farm houses to be seen ; the 
place had grown into quite a village. There 
was a church and the blackrobe, viz : priest, 
dwelt amongst the white men. 

Namameha sighed from a mixed feeling 
of joy and sorrow when she saw the spot 
again and thought of her dear lost parents. 
But the two travellers w^ere very soon sur- 
rounded by a crowd of white people, curious 
to know who the new-comers were. How 
astounded they were when Namameha told 
them her adventures! Joyfully they took 
the fugitives with them and provided them 
with a little hut close by the lake. The 
priest came to see them and after having 
instructed Watomilka, administered to him 
the sacrament of holy Baptism. But as the 
youth showed signs of great intelligence, 


Namamelia and Watomilka. 


45 


the priest resolved to let him study in the 
hope that he might one day be able to 
preach the G-ospel to the Indians. Marie — 
as Namameha was now again called — most 
gladly consented to this plan, and so at 
length, the boy Watomilka became a holy 
and zealous priest. 



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Second Tale. 


T|p(o, The Young Indian Missionary, 

B Y 

A. V. B. 


( 47 ) 


J 

( 

I 

( 

( 

« 

I 


1 . 


The Return Home and the Dis= 
appointment. 

It was on the 15th of August in the year 
1868 — the feast of the Assumption of the 
Blessed Virgin — that the three-masted 
barque St. Michael, belonging to the Eussiaii 
whalefisher, Oronzow, after two years ^ 
absence, sailed into the harbor of Norton 
Sound, far up in the northwest of America. 
All the masts of the ship bore flags with 
colored pendants, and great was the joy 
amongst the sailors, when they caught sight 
of the coast with the little fort and the houses 
and cabins round about it ; for they had al- 
most given up all hope of ever seeing it again. 
Two years before, when they went off to the 
whale fishery, they got blocked in between 
great floating fields of ice in the Polar Sea, 
and there they were compelled to pass the 
winter, for it was not until the following 
summer that they succeeded in freeing their 
vessel and gaining the open sea. They 

(49) 


50 Taliko, the Young Indian Missionary. 

were now returning safely to St. MichaePs 
Fort in the Norton Sound, richly laden 
with trainoil and even with ivory which 
they had found in the Siberian ice. But 
how amazed they were, when they no longer 
saw the Russian flag floating from the turret- 
spire of the little fortress, but the American 
starbanner in its stead! The whalefishers 
looked about in bemlderment and asked 
each other what could have happened in 
the settlement during their absence. 

Among the crew, there was a darkbrown 
Indian boy, who testified his delight at the 
sight of his native coast, by shouting and 
capering about for joy. But when he saw 
the other sailors become all of a sudden 
grave and silent, he cried out: ‘‘Iwan! 
Feodor 1 Paul 1 why do you no longer smile ’ 

They shook their heads thoughtfully 
whilst they looked anxiously on the coast. 
The captain of the ship, however, a kind, 
pleasant-looking Russian laid his hand on 
the shoulder of the boy, who was still singing 
and dancing, and said: ^‘Tahko, my son, I 
am afraid the Americans have either bought 
or taken away your native land and that we 
shall be obliged to separate.’’ 


2\ihJxOj the YouiUf Lidian Missionary . 51 

^‘Wliat!’^ exclaimed the Indian boy in 
alarm, separate! Where are you going 
then?^’ 

the Americans have bought Alaska, 
I must go back to Russia,’^ explained the 
captain. 

During this conversation the ship entered 
the little harbor ; the boat was lowered into 
the sea, and the captain with a part of the 
sailors including the Indian boy, Tahko, 
rowed off to the coast. There they were 
received by a crowd of people who looked on 
the new-comers with amazement. Suddenly 
several voices cried out: ^SSurely that is 
Oronzow! That is the ship St. Mchael 
which we all thought was lost! God be 
praised, they are safe!” 

Captain Oronzow said in reply: ^^Yes, 
we are safe; but what has happened here!” 

The new American Governor of the fort 
then came up to him, saluted him and 
informed him that the Americans had 
bought Alaska and that most of the Russians 
had left the settlement a short time ago and 
returned to Russia. 

During this conversation no one thought 
of the Indian boy, Tahko. Directly after 


52 TaliJco, the Young Indian Missmiary . 

he sprung from the boat on to the coast, he 
looked anxiously through the crowd as if 
seeking for some one. But when he did 
not see those whom he sought, he ran swiftly 
as a reindeer through the streets to the 
other end of the village to a little cabin, 
built of the bark of trees, which he knew 
well. As he neared the little habitation he 
saw at the first glance that it was deserted, 
for no smoke issued from the opening in 
the roof ; the doors made of planks lay on 
the ground and no dog came forward to 
greet him with a friendly bark. Stupefied 
with astonishment, the poor boy stood be- 
fore the empty hut of his parents; then, 
rushing in breathless from anxiety and 
grief, cried out loudly: “Takalag! father! 
mother! When no answer came and all 
remained still, he threw himself on the 
ground and sobbed aloud in the wildest grief. 

Some Indians came from the neighboring 
huts and said : ^‘Boy, why are you shedding 
such bitter tears, and why do you hide your 
head like a wounded deer?^^ 

At these questions Tahko got up and 
said: Where is Takalag, my father, and 
Talahna, my mother 


TaMOj the Young Indian Missionary. 53 

^^What!^’ cried the Indians, Takalag 
your father? Why! you must be Tahko 
then? Yes, yes, it is he! He has come back 
from the sea. Poor Tahko! Your father 
and mother went away a long time ago, in 
their sledge towards the sun, the eye of day. ^ ^ 

^‘How long is it since their dogs drew 
their sledge away?^’ asked Tahko of his 
fellow countrymen. 

^^The moon has twelve times opened and 
shut the eye of night since then’^ (i. e. twelve 
times have the new and full moon changed. ) 

^^And where have they gone?’^ asked the 
boy again. 

‘‘They did not tell us; their sledge sunk 
from our eyes there behind those hills. 

Tahko was silent, he held his head down 
and appeared to be thinking ; then he raised 
himself up suddenly, and looking round to 
make sure that no white man was near said : 
“Why did my father leave this hut, which 
he loved so much, and which has only seen 
three times twelve moons since he built it?” 

An old grey-haired Indian said : “When 
the new white faces with their smoking ships 
came here over a year ago, your father, 
Takalag was sent away out of the wigwam 


54 TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary, 

of the ^ great beards^ (the Russians) and 
the ^great beards^ went back again over 
the sea. But we did not understand the 
language of the new white faces, and they 
often got angry and drove us out of their 
wigwams. That annoyed your father, who 
is as proud as the grey king of the hills 
(the great bear) and as he thought you 
were dead and lost in the icefields of the 
northern spirit, he went away with your 
mother, Talahna who, being as timid as a 
young hare, was frightened at the new 
white faces.’’ 

At these words, and at the remembrance 
of his father and mother, the tears streamed 
from the poor forsaken boy’s eyes; he 
turned away from the neighbors, sat liimself 
down in the darkest corner of the hut and 
let his head sink on his breast. 

This was the first great sorrow of his life. 
Four years ago he had come vath his father 
and mother from the far east — from the 
unfruitful banks of the Inana river to the 
sea coast. Because whilst famine and sick- 
ness were filling the Indian village with 
dead bodies, news reached them that, far 
away in the west, the white faces with great 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary, 55 

beards were giving the Indians good food 
in exchange for furs and stags ^ horns. 
Ten families of the Inana Indians set 
out, and had several months’ hard 
travelhng from the time they started 
away from the Rocky mountains in the 
direction of the Yukon river to the time 
they reached the Russian settlement of St. 
Michael on the Norton Sound. There they 
bartered skins very advantageously for flour 
and meat, settled down amongst the Russians 
and worked for their daily bread. 

Even Tahko, who was not more than 
twelve years of age, and was Takalag’s only 
son, was able to make himself useful. He 
worked for Captain Oronzow, felled wood 
for him in the forest and carried it home 
for him in his sledge. Oronzow was much 
pleased with the bright looking lad, and 
when he went off two years afterwards, to 
the whalefisheries in Behring’s Straits and 
the Polar Sea, he took the boy with him. 
He promised his parents that he would 
watch over him as if he were his own son, 
and would make a clever whalefisher and 
sealhunter of him. So they let him go 
with Oronzow. But when for two long 


56 TalikOj the Young Indian Missionary, 

years he did not return, they thought he 
must bo dead and they went back sorrow- 
fully to their old home on the banks of the 
Inana river. 

Tahko now sat all alone amongst strangers 
thinking mournfully of the destruction of 
all his hopes. O how often, and how much 
he had rejoiced, during his long sojourn in 
the ice, in the thought of seeing his father 
and mother again ; how carefully he watched 
for whales on the high seas! His sharp 
Indian eyes often discerned a whale which 
the other sailors would have let pass unno- 
ticed ; and each time Oronzow gave him a 
share in the booty for his discovery. Often 
during the journey Tahko looked with 
ghstening eyes on the three barrels filled 
with whalebone and trainoil which he had 
already earned for himself and rejoiced in 
the thought of making them a present to 
his dear father and mother. But now all 
that was over. They would never enjoy 
his little treasure, and so he had no more 
pleasure in it. And what could he do all 
alone and forsaken? For a little while he 
remained sitting silently absorbed in his 
sad reflections. 


Taliko, the Young Indian Missionary. 67 

The Indians looked upon him with sym- 
pathy. At last the old woman said ; ^^Tahko, 
what will you do now!^’ 

don’t know,” replied the boy, must 
think over it to-night and invoke the Great 
Spirit.” 

^^You say well, my son,” agreed the 
woman, and turning towards the by- 
standers, she said: ^^Come, leave him to 
himself; Tahko has a brave heart, he will 
find out what is best to be done.” 


II. 


A Great Resolution. 

Tahko passed a sleepless night. He 
thought and thought over and over again 
how he could set about trying to find his 
parents. Tears streamed down his cheeks 
and at one time he would call out half- 
aloud: ^‘Father! mother!’’ Then again he 
would raise his eyes and hands towards the 
opening in the roof, through which the 
starry heavens could be seen, and pray to 
the Great Father above. When, at last day 
broke in the east, and the great bell of the 
Fort called both whites and Indians to work 
and to the fisheries, Tahko sprang up. His 
resolution was taken : he determined to go 
himself in search of his parents, but before 
quitting the hut he knelt on the floor, raised 
his hands and said, as Captain Oronzow had 
taught him: ^^Our father, dwelling up there 
in heaven, watch over me; turn away from 
me all that is bad, and help me to find my 
father! ” 


(58) 


TahkOj the Yoimg Indian Missionary, 59 

Then he hastened to the harbor to look 
for the captain, and when he reached the 
sea shore he found him already there with 
his sailors very busy unloading boxes and 
casks. He called out cheerfully to the boy: 
^^Tahko, my lad, come and take the three 
barrels which belong to you, and take this 
box of ivory also which I will make you a 
present of. Take them to your father and 
mother and greet them kindly for me; I 
hope they are quite welir’ 

Tahko pressed the hand of the captain 
and said in a trembling voice: ^‘Father 
Oronzow, my parents are no longer here.’^ 

^^What! exclaimed the captain in amaze- 
ment,“no longer here? Are they deadT^ 

^^No, they have gone back to their old 
home, because they thought I was dead; 
and, because the new white faces did not 
look upon them with friendly eyes. 

^^Come with me, my poor boy,^^ said the 
captain, ^^you must tell me more about 
that.’^ So saying, he drew the lad aside 
and seated himself with him on a log on 
the shore. 

There Tahko informed his patron of all 


60 TahkOf the Young Indian Missionary . 

that he had learnt from the Indians about 
the departure of his parents. Then he 
closed his narration with these words : “Yes, 
Father Oronzow, you spoke truly yesterday 
when you said, we must part, for I must go 
and search for my father and mother.’^ 

“Ah, but that was not what I meant, 
said the good-natured old Eussian. “Now 
that you have lost your parents, stay with 
me, I will be a father to you, and so long 
as you are with me you shall not want for 
anything.’^ 

“Father Oronzow,^’ said Tahko with a 
reproachful glance, “you yourself told me I 
must honor my father and mother, and 
always stay with them and take care of 
them and when they were old and helpless 
I must not forsake them, then the Great 
Father in heaven would love me and make 
me happy. You see, I must search for my 
parents.” 

The old seaman looked at the boy approv- 
ingly and said: “You are right, Tahko, 
and God will help you.’/ 

“Yes, I know He will,” said Tahko, “for 
I promised the Great Father last night, if 
He helps me I will tell my father and 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary . 61 

mother about the Lord Jesus, that they 
also may adore Him and be cleansed with 
the sacred water, and go to Him in heaven ; 
for they know nothing about Him yet, and 
that is why I am so anxious to find them/’ 

‘‘But how do you hope to find them,” 
interrupted Oronzow, “since you have no 
idea where they went to?” 

“I think I shall find them by the Inana 
river ; that is the native place of our tribe, 
and our old home is there.” 

“But, good God!” cried the captain, 
“that is a tremendous distance from here; 
you vdll be several months getting there.” 

“I know that,” said Tahko, “but I am 
strong now.” 

“You had better wait till the fur dealers 
of the Yukon river go there,” said the 
captain, “then you can accompany them.” 

“No, Father Oronzow,” replied Tahko, 
“the fur dealers will be only looking for 
furs; but I shall be seeking my father. 
When the merchants have found sufficient 
furs they will turn back and compel me to 
carry their furs on my sledge. No, I must 
go alone.” 

“Ay, ay!” said the captain shaking his 


62 Tahko, the Young Indian Missionary , 

head that is a perilous journey; I fear for 
your life.’^ 

^‘Father/’ replied Tahko, ^^you told me 
the Great Father in heaven sent an angel 
with glistening wings to the young Tobias, 
who showed him the way, saved him from 
the monstrous fish and cast out the black 
spirit. The Great Father vdll send me also 
a bright spirit with shining wings; but — 
here Tahko stopped and glanced up at the 
captain with a questioning and imploring 
look. 

The captain noticed it and said encourag- 
ingly: ‘‘Well, go on.’’ 

Tahko then continued: “I have no sledge 
and no dogs to go and seek my father with ; 
will yoii buy me some?” 

“Yes, my son,” said Oronzow, “that I 
will and you shall have nine dogs and the 
best sledge I can find.” 

With these words Oronzow rose and ac- 
companied by Tahko, went into the Indian 
village where dogs and sledges abounded. 
Tahko carefully examined the sledges and 
the harness for the dogs, and a bargain was 
soon concluded. Then Tahko took his 
vehicle to the forsaken hut of his parents. 


TalikOj the Young Indian Missionary. 63 

shut it up there and the dogs with it, whilst 
he went with Oronzow to the ship to get 
guns, cartridges, knives, hatchets, saws, 
files, hammers, nails and other utensils, 
which are to the Indians treasures more 
precious than gold, because there is no iron 
or copi)er in the country. Oronzow had a 
lined fur cloak made for Tahko such as the 
Indians wear, and which the Indian women, 
who are clever at sewing, make themselves. 


III. 


A Fortunate Meeting. 

Tahko had finished all his preparations 
and was only waiting for the first fall of 
snow to set out on his long journey. During 
this time he often sat very lonesome at the 
back of his hut, and cut and polished with 
a little blade of steel, or with a bit of glass, 
an ivory crucifix for the captain, praying- 
mean while as follows: ^^Dear Father in 
heaven, bless Captain Oronzow and lead me 
to my parents.^’ The old Eussian, who 
was really sorry to part with the faithful, 
tme-hearted youth, often came to keep him 
company for an hour or two. 

At such times Tahko would say: ‘^Father 
Oronzow, tell me something more out of 
the holy book (viz, out of the holy scrip- 
tures) and Oronzow would then tell him 
about Joseph in Egypt, or David, or about 
the miracles wrought by Our Lord, and he 
also taught him the ten commandments, 
the ‘^Our Father.^^ and the ^^Hail Mary;^’ 

(64) 


TaJiko, the Young Indian Missionary, 65 

to all which instructions Tahko listened 
diligently. 

Oronzow said on one of these occasions : 
son, I see you have a great longing to 
learn the prayers of the white men, but 
what will you do when you live in the 
Indian vdgwams again, and the sorcerer of 
your tribe orders you to sing and dance at 
the feasts of the evil spirits? They will kill 
you if you do not obey them.^’ 

^ ^Father,’’ replied the boy earnestly, 
have had many thoughts in the last few 
days.’^ 

^Tndeed,^’ said Oronzow in astonishment, 
‘^what thoughts have you had?’^ 

shall tell my brothers on the Inana 
everything which you have told me ; I will 
lead them also on the right road to heaven 
and cleanse them in the sacred waters, but 
you must give me some of the water. 

^^What Tahko, cried the captain in 
amazement, “have you such great thoughts 
as these! Well, I never expected to make a 
prayerman (missionary) of you, but I am 
very pleased to hear it. Only instruct your 
brothers at first, then God will soon send 


66 Taliko, the Young Indian Missionary, 

you a real prayerman, who will bring the 
sacred water with him/^ 

A fortnight passed in this manner, when 
suddenly the weather changed. Heavy 
clouds covered the hitherto clear sky and 
an icy wind sprung up from the north. 
When Tahko went out of his hut on the 
following morning, there was half a foot of 
snow on the ground. Tahko went joyfully 
back, put on his fur mantle, fastened the 
snowshoes on his feet, took his dogs with 
him and went to look for the captain. He 
met him at the gate of the little fortress and 
cried out: ‘‘Father Oronzow, I must go 
away now to look for my parents.’’ 

“Yes, my son, replied Oronzow, holding 
out his hand to him, “yes, we must now 
part for ever in this life ; but that you may 
never forget Father Oronzow, take this little 
present, it is a picture of the great Queen of 
heaven ; when you are in any danger call 
to her, say: ‘Mary help!’ and pray some- 
times for me.” 

“0 Father Oronzow!” cried Tahko, 
looking with admiration on the picture 
painted on porcelain, of the Blessed Virgin, 
“I can never forget you.” He then hung 


TalikOj the Young Indian Missionary, 67 

the picture round his neck and hid it under 
his fur mantle. 

In the meantime the sailors belonging to 
the whaling boat, had got the dogs har- 
nessed to the sledge. They all crowded 
round Tahko, shook hands with him and 
wished him a prosperous journey. But the 
captain laid his hand, with almost paternal 
tenderness, on his shoulder and said: 

^ ‘Tahko, my dear son, persevere in well- 
doing and never forget the Blessed Virgin.’^ 
Then he turned round and went away so as 
not to show how grievous the parting was 
to him. But Tahko, amidst the encouraging 
shouts of his friends, went off with his 
sledge through the village and on towards 
the east, the land of the rising sun. 

As he strode along over the fields in his 
snow shoes, the dogs in their first eagerness 
ran on swiftly in advance, and the tower of 
the little fort of St. Michael disappeared 
behind him ; his bosom heaved with a joyful 
feeling of regained freedom ; for although 
he would willingly have stayed with Captain 
Oronzow, yet the ship was much too narrow 
and confined for him. He was still an 
Indian and he had been accustomed from 


OS TahhOj the Young Indian Missionary . 

his earliest years to rove about and to hunt 
unhindered for hundreds of miles over hill 
and down dale, through wood and plain 
and on the banks of the lake. Consequently 
the life he led on the deck of the ship, where 
he could not go ten steps without meeting 
with some impediment, did not suit him. 
Now he was free again. He looked proudly 
on the rifle w^hich hung across his shoulder 
and would gladly have tried it on some 
wild animal; but no snow^-hare or ice-fox 
was to be seen. He thought with great 
satisfaction of all the treasures w^hich lay 
hidden in his sledge. For Father Oronzow 
had given him six other weapons and a little 
barrel of cartridges, also a trunk fllled with 
iron and steel tools, several bales of gay- 
colored cloth, a box filled with glass and 
china beads and a hundred other trifles. 

Tahko looked upon himself as the richest 
man in all Alaska, and in his native place 
he would really be so, for many of the 
Indian chiefs even, who looked upon one 
poor miserable weapon as the most valuable 
possession in the w^orld, would have envied 
him his treasures. Filled with joyful expec- 
tations, he thought how happy these gifts 


TaJikOf the Yotmg Indian Missionary. 69 

would make his father and mother. But 
then again, the sad thought came into his 
mind, whether he should succeed in reaching 
his home safely and in finding his parents 
again. With bowed head and thoughtful 
mien, Tahko was sliding over the snowfields 
on the borders of a pine- wood, when ho 
was suddenly and most unpleasantly awak- 
ened out of his reverie. 

He felt himself struck by a heavy stone 
and he fell to the ground. Although some- 
what stunned by the blow, still he felt at 
once for his rifle, sprang up quickly and 
looked all around to see where the missile 
came from. Scarcely thirty paces distant 
from him, he saw an Innoit hiding behind 
the trees with his sling stone in hand ready 
to hurl. Tahko instantly lifted his rifle and 
aimed at the breast of the man, who evidently 
must have been waiting about for him for 
several days mth the intention of robbing 
him. Tahko would certainly have shot him 
through the heart, for, in his two years^ 
practice of seal hunting, he had become a 
first rate shot, but the thought occurred to 
him: Hf I kill the man, he will go to the 
bad spirit^s fiery lake, so I will not kill him, 


70 Tahho, the Young Indian Missionary, 

but only hinder him from doing me any 
harm/ So he aimed at the Innoit^s upraised 
hand, and just as he was about to throw 
his spear, the shot sounded and the man 
fell to the ground with a loud cry. The 
shot had gone through his hand. Tahko 
was just going to call his dogs back for they 
had run on some distance ahead, when he 
thought to himself, the man may be severely 
wounded and he might die here all alone in 
the snow. So he called the dogs back and 
stopped them, and then went cautiously 
towards the wounded man. 

When the Innoit saw Tahko coming, he 
stretched out his bleeding hand towards 
him and said: ^‘0 pray don’t kill me.” 

Tahko answered: will not kill you, 

because the Good Spirit forbids me to rob 
or kill my brethren. Cast your weapon 
from you and I will bind up your hand.” 

The savage looked at the boy mth amaze- 
ment, then threw his spear and the dagger 
which was stuck in his belt far away from 
him saying: ^^The Inana boys are nobler 
than the Innoits.” 

Tahko answered: ^^No, the Inanas rob 
and kill their fellow-men also ; but I have 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary , 71 

learnt the commands of the G-reat Father 
who forbids us to rob and kill others.’’ 

^^And I,” said the wounded Innoit, ^‘have 
up to the present despised the white prayer- 
man. But I will go to him and learn from 
him.” 

Tahko, rejoicing over these earnest and 
sincere words of his enemy, ran to his 
sledge and fetched a little bottle of healing 
balsam and some linen which Captain 
Oronzow had given him, and bound the 
man’s hand. Then he asked him whether 
he could walk and as the man answered in 
the affirmative, he gave him a little wine 
to strengthen him. 

The Innoit got up, looked at the boy in 
astonishment and said: wanted to do 

you harm and you have done me good and 
given me good things. I will think over 
this.” 

Tahko then let him go on his way peace- 
fully, whilst he continued his journey mth 
his sledge. He had never felt so happy and 
joyful before in his life as he did after this 
good deed. He thought of Captain Oronzow 
who had narrated to him a similar history 
out of the holy book about a man of the 


72 Tahko, the Young Indian Missionary, 

name of Samaritan.’’ He took care how- 
ever to be more cautions than before, for, 
although in former times he had, like all 
the Indians, noticed every slight noise and 
readily discovered every distant object, still 
he had become careless on the ship where 
there was no danger of a sudden attack. 

Towards evening the dogs being very 
tired, ran slowly and mth their tongues 
hanging out of their mouths. So Tahko 
halted a little off the road between two 
sheltering rocks in the wood. He did not 
kindle a fire for fear its light might betray 
him. He unharnessed his dogs, tied them 
each one to a tree in a circle round the 
sledge, gave them each a dried fish to eat and 
then laid himself down on the sledge in their 
midst to sleep. But first he knelt down as 
Father Oronzow had told him, took out the 
picture of the Blessed Virgin, looked at it 
reverently and said : ‘ ^ G-reat Queen of heaven , 
protect me, bless Father Oronzow and lead 
me to my father and mother.” Then he 
wrapped himself up in a large woolen 
covering and went to sleep. He dreamed 
he was on the ship and Captain Oronzow 
was with him. Then they both together 


Tahko, the Young Indian Missionary, 73 

pulled a large whale from the sea up on to 
the deck. But when it was on the ship, 
Tahko saw that it was not a fish but a great 
coffin, and when he opened it, there lay 
within it his father and mother. Tahko 
much terrified rushed towards them, then 
they opened their eyes, and smiling upon 
him said: ^ ^Good-bye, Tahko, till we meet 
again in heaven.’^ At these words he felt 
heart broken, uttered a piercing cry and 
woke up. He looked around him and saw 
the dogs peacefully sleeping under the snow. 
Then he tried to think what this dream 
could mean. He began to fear some mis- 
fortune must have overtaken his parents. 
So he rose up quickly and then kneeling 
reverently on the snow, drew forth his 
picture and prayed, saying the same words 
as he did the night before. After this he 
threw his dogs a piece of dried fish for their 
breakfast, ate a little himself and harnessed 
the dogs to the sledge again. 

He now proceeded on his journey slowly 
but without interruption till towards noon 
he came near to the little fort of Nulato and 
saw the Indian village lying before him. 
He had now reached the great Yukon river. 


74 TalikOj the Young Indian Missionary, 

along the shores of which he had several 
leagues yet to travel. But he resolved before 
he went any further, to enquire amongst 
the Indians of that village as to whether 
they chanced to know where his parents 
had gone. For on their way to the Yukon, 
they would have had to pass through Nulato, 
and so must have passed through this place 
also. He questioned several of the inhabi- 
tants whom he met ; but nobody knew his 
parents, no one had seen them. Sad and 
depressed at the failure of his hopes, he was 
just about to leave the village when a dog 
rushed out of the last barrabarra (hut) 
and jumped up on him, barking joyfully and 
wagging his tail. Tahko looked with amaze- 
ment at the dog who appeared to recognize 
him, then suddenly he cried: ^ ‘Vasco! is it 
really you? Vasco, where is Takalag, find 
Takalag! 

But the dog, who really had belonged to 
the boy’s father and who, in days gone 
by, would have obeyed such a command 
instantly by running to the precise place 
where his master was, now only stood still 
before Tahko and gave a melancholy howl. 

At the same moment a white man with a 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary » 75 

long beard and a black gown, came out of 
the hut and witnessed the incident. When 
he heard Tahko call the dog by his right 
name, he went forward and asked him in a 
friendly tone whether he knew the dog. 

^^Yes,’^ replied Tahko, know him well; 
it is my father^s dog, but where is Takalag, 
my father? If you know, please tell me for 
I am seeking him.^’ 

^‘Are you Takalag’ s son? How can that 
be? He told me his only child was drowned. ’ ’ 

^^No, no, we were all saved. But pray 
tell me where my father is! Does he live 
here?” 

‘‘No, my friend,” replied the missionary 
— for such the stranger was — “your father 
is no longer here. Last year when he 
passed through this part on his way back 
to your native place on the Inana river, he 
spent the night in my barrabarra and I 
bought this dog Vasco of him because I 
wanted a good leading-dog for my sledge 
with which I travel all round about the 
Indian villages.” 

“Are you a fur-dealer then?” said Tahko. 

“No, my son,” said the missionary 
smiling, “I am not a hunter of skins, but a 


76 Talikoy the Young Indian Missionary. 

hunter of souls. I am a missionary from 
the east.’^ 

Tahko was much astonished at hearing 
this, and he retreated a few paces half mis- 
trustfully. Then he said timidly: ^^Are 
you a prayerman with a cross 

^^Most assuredly, see, here it is,’^ replied 
the missionary drawing forth his crucifix 
and holding it up before the boy. Tahko 
was just going to take it and kiss it rever- 
ently when another doubt arose in his mind 
and he asked again: ^^Do you love the 
great Queen of heaven and her Son?^’ 

^^You mean the Blessed Virgin Mary, the 
Mother of Grod! Most certainly I do love 
and honor her with all my heart. Her 
picture is hanging there in my barrabarra. 
But why do you askT’ 

^ ^Because Father Oronzow told me I must 
be on my guard against the false prayermen 
of the Americans, who do not wear the 
cross and do not love the Queen of heaven ; 
he says they do not know the right way to 
heaven. But you are one of the right 
prayermen and I can trust you.’’ 

^^Well then, come into my hut and rest 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary , 77 

till to-morrow ; I must have a long talk with 
you, for I can see God has led you to me.’’ 

^‘Yes,” said Tahko, have prayed eveiy 
morning and night to the Great Father and 
asked Him to lead me to my parents, and 
now see, he has heard my prayers, for I 
have found traces of them.” 

^^May God bless your entrance into my 
hut,” said the missionary as he offered his 
hand to Tahko. Then opening the wide 
door of a little shed which was built by the 
side of the hut, he helped the boy to put 
his sledge in there, called the dogs into a 
little warm stable and throwing them some 
dried fish, closed the door. 

Tahko was very much surprised at this 
amount of care, for the Indians leave their 
dogs outside the huts in the snow, or rather, 
they lie buried under the snow, and, when 
they are not at work, they generally have 
to find or catch their own food, which 
makes them very thievish ; it is only when 
they are on a journey that their masters 
feed them once in the day — at night when 
they pitch their tents. But Tahko was 
even more surprised when the missionary 
took him into his hut. For, although it 


78 TalikOj the Young Indian 3Iissionarg, 

was like all the Indian barrabarras only 
made of rough fir poles stopped up with 
moss and the bark of trees and covered 
with the skins of animals, yet it appeared 
much cleaner and brighter ; for contrary to 
the Indian huts, it had on all sides except 
the north little window openings, which in 
default of panes of glass, were filled in with 
thick, but almost transparent, unsealed 
fish-skins. 

One thing in particular called forth from 
the boy a loud cry of joy. A large picture 
of the Blessed Virgin vith the Infant Jesus 
in her arms was hanging against the wall. 
Tahko recognized it immediately and cried 
out: ^^That is the same as Father Oronzow 
gave me!^’ and thereupon he showed his 
little picture to the missionary. The priest 
looked at it and said: ^‘You are a Christian 
then, since Father Oronzow gave you that?’^ 

^‘Yes,^^ said Tahko, ^^I am a child of the 
Great Father. But Father Oronzow is not 
a prayerman, but the chief officer of a great 
ship.’’ And then the boy told the priest 
how Oronzow instructed him when the ship 
was in danger of being dashed to pieces in 
the midst of the ice in the Polar Sea, and 


Tahko, the Young Indian Missionary . 79 

how he asked him whether he believed in 
Jesus Christ and wished to go to heaven if 
he must die now.. And when he answered 
these questions in the affirmative, Father 
Oronzow had baptized him. 


lY. 


Joyous Prospects. 

Tahko informed the missionary that 
Father Oronzow told him about the Great 
Father in heaven and about His Son 
Jesus Christ, and then poured the sacred 
waters of baptism upon his head. And 
that he then felt a great joy in his heart, 
and had no longer the least fear of death, 
because he knew that he should be sure to 
go to heaven. Later on, when they were 
in safety, Father Oronzow told him a great 
many things out of the holy book and 
taught him the prayers. The missionary 
listened with great attention and inwardly 
praised the benign and wise providence 
of God, which had procured for this boy 
the grace of holy baptism by which his 
heart had been made capable of all good 
and of receiving the true faith. Of course 
Oronzow’ s instruction was rather imperfect, 
but he had not brought forward any pre- 
judices against Catholic truth and so Tahko’s 
(80) 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missiouary, 81 

heart was still wholly unspoiled. Now God 
had led him, through the separation from 
his parents, into the hands of the priest 
that he might instruct him still better and 
perhaps make of him a useful worker for 
God. For, for some time past Father 
Martin — such was the name of the priest — 
had been seeking a young Indian who 
would accompany him on his missionary 
journeys and be useful to him in learning 
the language and customs of the people and 
in converting the natives. Tahko seemed 
to him to be exactly the nght man. These 
and similar thoughts passed through the 
good Father’s mind whilst he provided his 
guest with refreshment. 

He sat down beside him and began in the 
following manner; ‘^My son, call me in 
future Father Martin, for that is my name 
as a prayerman; and I should like to be 
a father to you as Father Oronzow was 
formerly. Your father told me your name 
last year, but I have forgotten it, what is itr^ 
‘^Tahko,” replied the boy. 

‘‘What? Tahko! Did you not take some 
Christian name in baptism?” 

“No, Father Oronzow said I must remain 


82 TaJilcOj the Young Indian Missionary . 

an Indian so that I might be able to live 
amongst my people.’^ 

^^Well, Tahko/^ continued the missionary 
^^so you want to go and look for your 
parents on the Inana river? 

^‘Yes, Father.’^ 

Suppose I were willing to accompany 
you there in my sledge, would you take me 
with you?^’ 

^‘Take you with me!’^ cried Tahko in 
amazement, ^^vhat would you do there 
amongst the Inana men? They are very 
poor/^ 

‘‘I would make them rich with the grace 
of Grod and would teach them to pray to 
the Grreat Father. 

^‘0 Father! cried Tahko springing up 
joyfully, ^‘0 Father! When my ears heard 
your words my heart rejoiced, for Father 
Oronzow told me God would send us a real 
prayerman and now I know that he told 
me true.^’ 

^^Yes, my son,’’ said the missionary with 
emotion, ‘‘Father Oronzow has been a real 
guardian angel both for you and for me.” 

“What,” said Tahko in astonishment, “do 
you think Father Oronzow is an angel? But 


TalihOj the Young Indian Missionarif, 

he had a long beard like you and no shining 
wings.’’ 

The priest laughingly corrected the boy’s 
mistake. Then he said: ^‘For a long time 
past I have been wishing to visit the Indians 
on the Upper Yukon and on the Inana, 
and now that I have found a companion in 
you, we will set off together on the road 
early to-morrow morning.” 

Now it was a question of preparing 
themselves quickly for the journey. With 
Tahko’s help Father Martin packed his 
boxes, which contained all the things neces- 
sary for saying holy Mass, as well as a 
great many presents for the Indians, on the 
two sledges. Then several boxes of dried 
fish, ship’s biscuits, tea; also a little tent 
and a few woolen blankets. When every- 
thing was ready for the departure. Father 
Martin went to the American Governor of 
the fort and informed him that he was 
going to travel for several months in the 
interior of the country. After this, he told 
the Indians whom he had already converted 
that they were to meet together every day 
in his hut which served as the chapel, and 
say their prayers in common. In the 


84 TahlcOj the Young Indian Missionary. 

meantime night had come on, and they 
both laid themselves down on a bench to 
rest. But they first knelt before a picture 
of the Blessed Virgin and begged her blessing 
and protection on their journey. Tahko 
however prayed as usual saying: ^ ^Father 
in heaven, bless Father Oronzow and guide 
me to my parents.’^ Then he laid himself 
down and fell off to sleep. 


V. 


Great Losses and Great Gains. 

Tahko was awoke in the middle of the 
night by a bright light which shone all over 
the hut. He raised his head slightly and 
looked round. There he saw a table covered 
with a white cloth with two lighted candles 
on it, and the missionary standing before it 
with hands uplifted. At that sight a feehng 
of great awe and reverence came over the 
boy. He slipped noiselessly from his bed 
and knelt beside it. He remained thus 
quietly and attentively watching till the 
priest having finished the Mass, put all the 
sacred vessels away again. 

When at length the missionary turned 
round and saw the boy, he said: ^^What, 
Tahko, are you awake already? Have you 
seen what I was doing? 

^^Yes, Father, answered the youth. 

^^Do you know what it means? said the 
priest. 


(85) 


86 Tahko, the Young Indian Missionary . 

Father/^ replied Tahko. 
is/’ said Fr. Martin, ^^the white man’s 
service of God — the holy sacrifice which he 
offers up to theGrreat Father every day.” 

^^Is it true, Father,” said Tahko, ^ffhat 
no one dares look upon it, and have I done 
wrong in watching you?” 

^^No, my son,” replied the missionary, 
^^you may always look on when I offer up 
holy Mass; later on you will understand 
and will he able to assist me ; and when we 
reach your home, I will offer up this sacrifice 
for the people of your tribe.” 

^ ^Father,” said Tahko, ^ Vhen the Inana 
men see that they will have great reverence 
for you.” 

The missionary now placed the breakfast 
on the table, and an hour after they were 
ready to start on their journey. It was the 
8th of September, the feast of the Nativity 
of the Blessed Virgin, when our two travel- 
lers left Fort Nulato, the last of the European 
stations and pursued their way along the 
shore of the Yukon river. Tahko ran on 
before as leader of the first sledge and the 
dogs of both sledges followed, as they 
always do, with great exactitude in his 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary. 87 

footprints in the snow. As they slid silently 
along over the undulating hilly country, 
nothing was to be heard save the panting 
of the dogs and the crashing of the frozen 
snow under the pressure of the sledges. 

Towards evening the travellers came to a 
little Indian village, and were immediately 
surrounded by a group of women and 
children attracted by curiosity. Tahko told 
them his companion was a great prayerman 
of the white faces, and he had come to 
show them the way to happiness and to 
heaven, and the missionary added, he did 
not wish to buy fish or skins of them, but 
would make them presents if they would 
hear his words. The Indians gave signs of 
joy and applause and conducted the priest 
into the principal barrabarra, called hajim, 
a great roomy hut where the Indians held 
their meetings, kept their feasts and per- 
formed their death-dances. A thick beards 
skin was stretched out on which the mission- 
ary was to sit, whilst the men on one side of 
the room and the women on the other, sat 
down on low rough benches. There was a 
fire burning in the middle of the hut, the 
smoke from which escaped through an 


88 Tahko^ the Young Indian Missionary. 

opening in the roof. Several kettles and 
caldrons were put near the fire — some with 
tea in, which Father Martin had brought 
with him and some with fish and meat to 
be cooked. 

We must just stop and take a look at the 
Indian kettles for they are really very 
wonderful. They are made neither of iron 
nor copper, but of the bark of the birch 
tree sewed together, or of plaited rootlets. 
A kettle such as this holds water quite well, 
but it would burn if it were put over the 
fire. So they place it only by the side of 
the fire on the hot ashes and throw red-hot 
pebbles into the water till it boils. In spite 
of this apparently slow process, the water 
does not take much longer to boil than in a 
copper kettle. Plates and spoons are carved 
out of wood or stags’ horns, hard sharp- 
ground stones are used as knives, only one 
being of iron or steel. 

When the missionary drew out his own 
knife and fork, the Indians examined it 
closely and each one put it to his nose and 
said: ^^That is steel.” 

When Father Martin asked how they 
knew it was steel, he learnt that the Indians 


Taliko, the Young Indian Missionary. 89 

can distinguish iron from steel by the smell. 
He gave them several other utensils, — 
scissors, hammers and nails — to try them 
and found they always said right. At last 
he handed them a silver coin, but they 
laughed and said: ^^That has no smell, but 
it is worth more than steel. 

When the missionary had finished his 
supper in which the Indians also took part, 
he wanted to begin his instruction, but first 
he threw the remnants of fish and a few 
bones to the dogs, who with their heads 
resting on the ground lay before him and 
had watched him with hungry eyes all the 
time. They snapped them up greedily 
whilst a murmur of disapprobation arose 
all around. One Indian sprang up at once 
and snatched the bones away from one of 
the dogs. The missionary looked up at 
Tahko in astonishment, but he seemed as 
much shocked at the proceeding as the 
others. He whispered to the priest that it 
was unlucky to throw anything from one^s 
own meal to the dogs and the Indians were 
convinced that the hunting and fishing 
expeditions would turn out badly. 

The missionary who was not aware of 


90 TaJiko, the Young Indian Missionary , 

this superstition of the Indians, tried to 
make them understand that the lucky or 
unlucky results of their hunts could not 
depend upon that circumstance. But the 
savages were already in an ill-humor and 
an old sorcerer, who was afraid of losing 
his influence over them and consequently 
his means of subsistence, took advantage 
of their evil dispositions and tried to make 
them still more dissatisfled. When the 
missionary began to preach the gospel, the 
sorcerer contradicted him continually and 
said ; the missionaries were the cause of all 
the Indians^ sicknesses. Only one old 
Indian defended the priest and said : 
‘^Father, you have spoken truly and what 
you have said about the severe judgment 
after death, I have often thought and have 
also prayed to the Great Spirit. Stay with 
us and tell us more about your God, then 
all these also will believe.’’ 

At these words the old sorcerer became 
very angry and called out: ^rif the prayer- 
man speaks the truth, then he can also cure 
the sick man whom I have in my hut.” 
With these words he hurried off and soon 
came back leading a man by the hand who 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary . 91 

threw himself on the ground and writhed 
as though he were in great agony. 

The old Indian whispered softly to the 
missionary: The man is not ill; he is the 
sorcerer^ s brother and is only pretending 
to be ill.^^ 

^^Can you cure himT^ asked the sorcerer, 
answered the priest, ^^because he is 
not ill, but only an imposter like yourself.^’ 

^^He is ill and I will cure him,’’ said the 
sorcerer. Thereupon he threw a coverlet 
over the man and danced about singing 
and making superstitious signs. Suddenly 
he stooped down over him, put his hand 
under the coverlet and drew forth a hideous 
looking toad, crying out: ^^See, hero is the 
spirit of the disease. I have taken it out of 
the sick man and he is now restored to 
health.” 

The man then sprang up from the ground 
and all the people present clapped their 
hands in token of applause. However 
there were several who laughed and made 
it evident that they looked upon the cure 
simply as a fraud, but they took care not 
to say so openly. Suddenly a dark form 
appeared through the opening in the roof 


92 TaJikOj the Young Indian Missmiary. 

and every body looked up whilst something 
was let down by means of cords ; it was a 
board on which stood, between two burning 
tapers, a little wood-carved reindeer. 

^^See,^^ cried the sorcerer to the people, 
^‘this is a sign that the great spirit will 
make you prosperous in the hunt if you 
remain faithful to him.’^ He then proposed 
that they should perform the hunt-dance 
around the carved image. 

Whilst the Indians, with loud singing 
and stamping of feet, were going through 
this superstitious dance, the old Indian 
came up to the missionary and whispered : 
^‘Father, come out of the hut with me, the 
sorcerer means evil to youi^ 

The priest rose at once and went out of 
the room. When they were outside, the 
old man took him by the hand and led him 
in all haste to the end of the village where 
Tahko, with the sledges ready harnessed, 
was anxiously awaiting him. The old man 
knelt down before the missionary and said : 
^Tather, bless me and pray for me and my 
sons that we may soon have the happiness 
of seeing you again.’’ 

When Father Martin had blessed and 


Tahko, the Yoimg Indian Idlssiouary , 93 

thanked the good old man, ho strapped his 
snowshoes on and followed the sledges with 
which Tahko had already hurried forward. 
When he overtook the boy he asked him 
what danger had threatened them. Tahko 
replied: ^^0 Father, that sorcerer is a bad 
man; they told me in the village that he 
and his brother had robbed and murdered 
several white men. I am very thankful 
that we have escaped them.^^ They slid 
along in silence side by side over the hard 
frozen snow. Suddenly in the distance 
they saw a bright light in the sky, brilliant 
rays shot like fiery serpents out of the 
heavens and quite lighted up the sur- 
rounding neighborhood. 

^‘The Northern Lights! exclaimed the 
missionary. 

‘‘Father, is not that a sign that we are 
on the right road?^^ asked Tahko. 

“My son,’^ replied the priest, “he who 
has a good conscience and obeys God^s will 
is always on the right road even when all is 
darkness, because God guides him and 
therefore he has nothing to fear.^^ 

“Father,^’ said the boy, “I believe I have 
a good conscience, but still I am veiy sad.^^ 


94 TahhOj the Young Ind ian Missionary * 

^^Why so my son?’^ 

^ ^Because I am afraid the sorcerers will 
prevent the Inana men from listening to 
you. Can you not offer up a sacrifice to 
the G-reat Father and ask Him to make all 
the sorcerers die?’’ 

^^No, my son,” said the missionary, ^^on 
the contrary we will offer sacrifice to the 
good Grod that they may be converted.” 

^^But I have nothing to offer as a sacri- 
fice,” said Tahko. 

^^Tahko,” said the priest, ^^you can offer 
as a sacrifice what you hold as dearest and 
best.” 

^^The dearest and best that I have is my 
father and mother,” replied the boy, ^‘but 
I cannot ofier them as a sacrifice.” 

^^You have a great longing to find them 
again have you not?” asked the priest. 

^^Yes, Father.” 

^^Well now, if God willed that you should 
never find your parents again on earth, 
would not that be a very great and heavy 
sacrifice for you?” 

^^Oh yes. Father, it would be the greatest 
grief of all to me.” 

^^Say every day in your prayers then, my 


TaJikOj the Young Indian Missionary, 95 

son: ‘Dearest Lord, if Thou wilt that I 
should find my parents again, I should be 
grateful to Thee, but if it is Thy will that 
I should see them again only in heaven, 
then I offer Thee my deep sorrow for the 
conversion of the Inana tribe. 

“What, Father, cried Tahko in amaze- 
ment; “did you also see my dream? 

“What dream? my son,’’ asked the 
missionary. 

Thereupon the boy related his dream, 
how he had seen his parents in a coffin, and 
how they had called out to him : “Grood-bye, 
till we meet again in heaven.” 

The missionary listened attentively to the 
boy’s narration and then said: “My dear 
son, all dreams do not come from God, but 
He showed the innocent Joseph in Egypt 
the future in a dream, but pray every day 
as I told you.” 

“Yes, Father, I will do so,” said Tahko 
and they then continued their journey 
thoughtfully and silently. 

For several weeks they pursued their 
travels along the shores of the Yukon river 
without anything occuring worthy of note. 
They halted every evening and Tahko 


96 TalikOj the Yoking Indian Missionary , 

lighted a fire after the manner of the Indians 
and cooked for the missionary and himself 
the only warm meal they had each day. 
Then they laid themselves down by the fire 
and covered themselves over with blankets, 
and, as they lay watching the Northern 
Lights, the priest instructed the boy in the 
Catholic Faith. Lastly they knelt down 
on the snow, said their prayers together 
and then slept till the icy cold wind awoke 
them and warned them that it was time 
they continued their journey. Tahko learnt 
the principal articles of the faith so quickly 
and so easily that Fr. Martin was astonished 
and said: ^ ‘Tahko, I feel sure you will 
become a little missionary and help me to 
convert the Indians.’^ 

“But Father,’’ said Tahko smiling rather 
sadly, “in that case I should be sure not to 
find my parents.” 

“As God wills, my son,” said the priest. 

For a few days the two travellers con- 
tinued their way along the icy shores of the 
river where the road was smoother. Tahko 
went with the first sledge as leader, whilst 
the missionary, tired out with the long 
journey, seated himself on the last sledge. 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary, 97 

Suddenly a snow-hare came out of its hole 
just in front of this last sledge and rushed 
across the frozen river to the opposite shore. 
The dogs belonging to the first sledge, not 
seeing the hare, continued their way quietly, 
but those belonging to the missionary's sledge 
made a sudden turn and followed the hare 
Jicross the river. The priest threw his stick 
at the foremost dog to make him stop, but 
did not succeed in hitting him and it became 
impossible for him to stop the sledge. He 
called out loudly to Tahko for help. When 
the boy looked round he saw to his dismay 
how the priest^s sledge, on the thin ice in 
the middle of the river, threatened to sink 
in ; he was just beginning to fear both the 
sledge and the missionary would sink down 
under the water when the dogs reached the 
firmer ice again on the opposite shore and 
tearing up a little hill with the sledge, 
disappeared behind it. 

Tahko was terribly shocked ; he fastened 
his dogs securely to a tree and ran to the 
river in the hope of getting across, but that 
was impossible as the thin layer of ice was 
broken and was fast being carried away by 
the waves. He walked up and down the 


98 Tahho, the Young Indian Missionary, 

shore, but nowhere could he find a spot 
strong enough to allow him to cross. 
Mournfully, indeed almost despairingly, he 
went back to his sledge trying to think 
what was to be done now. There a new 
surprise was in store for him. He found a 
swarm of strange Indians, who had fallen 
upon his sledge and were plundering its 
contents. When he drew near they called 
out to him in the language of the Inana 
men. He answered in the same tongue and 
made known that he was of the same tribe. 
Then the men said to him: ^‘You have food 
in your sledge? give us something to eat, 
for we are starving. 

Tahko now observed how frightfully 
emaciated the men were. They told him 
they had not been able to catch any wild 
animals for a long time past; their tribe 
had therefore separated, their wives and 
children were close by in the tents and 
Tahko must give them food also, otherwise 
they would die of hunger. Tahko under- 
stood now why G-od had led him this way, 
it was that he might save his fellow- 
countrymen from starvation. He hastened 
with them to the tent and distributed all 


TahkOj the Young Indian Missionary, 99 

his remaining provisions of fish, meat and 
biscuits to the poor women and children, 
who kissed his hands in token of their 
gratitude. This action consoled Tahko 
very much. He recollected having seen 
marks of a great many reindeer’s hoofs in 
the snow and he told the men so. But 
they answered despondently: ‘^Ah, that 
cannot save us, for we have become so 
weak from our long starvation that we 
could not catch the swift reindeer by running 
as we used to do, and we have no fire- 
harpoons to kill them in the distance with.” 

‘‘But I have some fire-arrows,” said 
Tahko cheerfully, and he distributed some 
guns and cartridges amongst the astonished 
men and then led them back to the wood 
where he had seen the reindeer and they 
succeeded in killing thirty stags that same 
day, so they were no longer in fear of 
being starved. Whilst they were engaged 
bringing their booty into the camp, Tahko 
told them that he had had a white prayerman 
with him, but had lost him. The men then 
told him that half of their tribe was still on 
the other side of the river, and that the 
missionary “with his sledge would have been 


100 TaJiko, the Young Indian Missionary. 

sure to find their camp, but they added 
that all the families that had remained 
behind were in a still worse condition than 
they, because the starvation they had 
endured had caused a terrible sickness to 
break out amongst them — many had died 
of it and Tahko^s father and mother were 
now suffering from it. 

At this news Tahko wept bitterly and 
praying said: ^ ^Merciful G^od, grant that 
Father Martin may find them and baptize 
them that they may obtain everlasting 
happiness.^’ 

Gladly would Tahko have swum across 
to the other side of the river to look for his 
parents, but it was utterly impossible to 
cross that rapid stream. He was obliged 
to wait till the river would be frozen over 
again in the fast increasing cold. In the 
meanwhile he related to his fellow-country- 
men where he had been and what he had 
seen in the last two years, and he also 
instructed them in the doctrine of the white 
prayermen. They listened to him willingly 
and said: ^‘What you tell us of the right 
road to heaven must be true for the God 
whom you adore led you along this way in 


TaJikOy the Young Indian Missiouary, 101 

order to save us, we therefore believe your 
words. 

At length after several days they ventured 
carefully over the frozen river and soon 
found the camp with the Indian families 
that had remained behind. As Tahko and 
his friends approached the village they saw 
a long procession of men and women coming 
out of it, and going towards a hill. First 
came a boy carrying a cross, then a number 
of Indians each holding a lighted torch in 
his hand, next came men bearing two 
coffins, behind which Tahko recognized the 
missionary, who dressed in his priestly 
garments, was walking along reciting 
prayers for the dead. With a loud cry the 
boy rushed up to him and embracing him 
said : ^ ^ My father ! my mother ! ’ ’ 

^>Yes, said the priest much surprised and 
greatly moved, ‘‘yes, my poor Tahko, they 
are your parents whom we are carrying to 
the grave, but I instructed them and baptized 
them before their death and you will meet 
them again in heaven.’’ 

Tahko weeping, but yet consoled, walked 
beside the missionary and took part in a 
Christian burial for the first time in his life. 


102 Tahko, the Young Indian Missionary, 

In the evening when Fr. Martin and the 
boy were sitting together in the tent, the 
priest said: ^^You see, my son, great losses 
sometimes bring great gains. Grod has 
taken your parents away, but, at the same 
time. He has made you the savior of your 
tribe, and made the hearts of the Inana men 
capable of receiving the truth and now He 
intends to make a little prayerman of you.’’ 

^^Yes, Father,” said Tahko, ^^the good 
Grod has done all things well ; I will always 
stay with you and help you to teach the 
Inana men the right road to heaven.” 

And now the story of Tahko the young 
Indian Missionary is at an end. He is still 
staying with Fr. Martin, helping him as a 
catechist with the Indian children ; he also 
serves the holy Mass for him, and acts as 
leader in all the priest’s journeys over the 
snow-fields of Alaska. 



Third Tale. 


Father Rene's Last Journey. 

B Y 

Anton Huonder, S. J. 


( 103 ) 



Father Rene’s Last Journey. 

The events narrated in this little story 
took place in the beginning of the present 
century. 

In one of the bays of the White Swan 
Lake belonging to the territory of the great 
lakes, lay a dozen Indian wigwams half 
buried under the white mantle of winter. 
The hills which girdled the lake were also 
enveloped in snow, snow covered the vast 
water-plains, and snow remained on the 
wide-branched firs of the wood. A cold 
north wind sprang up from between the 
hills and whirled the thin flakes which fell 
from the heavens in a wild dance one over 
the other. In the midst of the wigwams 
there was a loghouse with a wooden cross 
on its snow-covered gable. It was the 
Mission chapel, and close by stood the 
dwelling-house of Father Rene who for ten 
years had lived and labored here in the 
territory of the source of the Mississippi 
among the tribe of Chippewa Indians. In 
this house a large fire was burning on the 

( 105 ) 


106 Father Renews Last Journey. 

hearth which threw its red flickering glare 
on an old Indian woman, who sat stirring a 
boiling caldron, snoring loudly the while. 

That was Gregosasah, the grandmother, 
her name really signified ^^Wild Cat^’ but 
she was, in spite of her snoring, which 
proceeded from shortness of breath, a good, 
pious old woman who did the cooking for 
the Blackrobe and kept his house clean. 

^^Gegosasah,^^ said Father Rene as he 
went out, ^^stir the tea well and when it has 
boiled sufficiently take it off and give the 
boy some of it every half hour, Manscha- 
quita is very ill.^’ 

^‘Yes, yes;^^ murmured the old woman 
in reply, ^ ^Blackrobe may make his mind 
easy, Gegosasah loves the boy.^’ 

Who was Manschaquitaf Manschaquita, 
^^the little chief, was the son of Ompatonga, 
the ^ ^strong elk,’’ and Monotawan, ^‘the 
white hind,” and grandson of Gegosasah. 
Manschaquita’ s mother died when he was 
six years old, and his father died when he 
was nine. When the father was dying he 
seized the Blackrobe ’s hand and laid it on 
the head of the boy saying : ^ ^Listen, Father, 
Ompatonga is going to the Great Spirit 


Father Renews Last Journey, 107 

above the clouds where he will find Mono- 
tawan again, but Manschaquita remains 
here. Take him, Blackrobe, he is yours. 

And Father Rene took the poor orphan 
from that hour into his own house and 
stood in place of a father to him. Since 
that time which was now three years ago, a 
strong affection had taken root between the 
missionary and the boy ; a kind of inspired 
reverence on the part of the young proieg4 
and an almost paternal love on the part of 
the generous priest. Manschaquita had 
seen the winter ^s snow fall thirteen times. 
In the district of the White Swan Lake 
there were none of his companions of the 
same age who could catch him in the race, 
none who could equal him in shooting with 
bow and arrow, and none who could steer a 
little canoe so cleverly through rapid streams 
and foaming billows. The fine salmon 
which hung in the smoke-chimney, and 
indeed, most of the other fish which came 
to Father Renews frugal table, were of 
Manschaquita^ s catching. But what was 
better than all this, was that the boy 
possessed a pious and innocent heart and a 
noble high aspiring mind. 


108 Father Renews Last Journey. 

^^Could the son of a red man also become 
a Blackrober’ he one day asked Father 
Rene during the religious instruction, and 
his black eyes shone brightly when the 
priest smiled on him and answered in the 
affirmative. Not to become a chief, but a 
Blackrobe was the end and aim of all 
Manschaquita’s ambition. 

For some days past a strong fever had 
stretched the boy upon his little moss-bed, 
and since the night before his condition 
threatened to become critical. In the 
morning Father Rene was sitting in great 
anxiety by the bed of his proUge, when two 
sick calls came quite unexpectedly. The 
zealous priest had stationed a confidential 
man in every little village and Indian 
encampment, whose principal duty was to 
inform him betimes when anyone was 
dangerously ill. Neither night nor heavy 
clouds, neither the fierce storms of winter 
nor any other danger could deter Father 
Rene — even if it were a hundred miles off — 
from rushing to the aid of his children 
when they were at the point of death. 
Indians have sharp eyes for recognizing 


Father Renews Last Journey, 109 

real sacrifices, and it was not without reason 
that they clung so much to their Blackrohe. 

One of the messengers was Kratunka, 
the ^^Grreat Crow,^’ from the village on the 
other side of the hills. ^^Thy daughter, 
Blackhair, is sick and longing to see the 
father of her soul,’^ was the brief message. 

The second messenger was, Teokunko, 
^^the Swiftfoot,’’ and he came from the 
other side of the lake where his father, an 
old chief, lay dying. 

Father Rene resolved to go first to the 
old chief and then on his way back to seek 
out the dying maiden. He took his thick 
cloak and beaver cap down from the wall, 
hurridly drew on his mocassins and warm 
well-lined gloves, hid the holy oils in his 
breast pocket and the little pyx containing 
the Blessed Sacrament in his bosom, seated 
himself on his sledge and went off over the 
smooth icy plain. 

Wapekesuk,” the White Cloud, the old 
man was called who was at the point of 
death. He was once a powerful chief; but 
now the cold hand of death was upon him 
and for some hours he had ceased to show 
any signs of life so the Indian women who 


110 Father Renews Last Journey » 

were standing about his bed wrapped up in 
woolen blankets, did not know whether his 
spirit had flown or not. Then suddenly a 
slight tremor passed over the sunken, 
withered countenance, the eyes opened 
wide and turned towards the door. At 
the same moment Father Eene entered, 
approached the bed, bent over the dying 
man compassionately, seized with a friendly 
pressure his benumbed and stiffening hands 
in his own. 

^Tt is well,^^ murmured Wapekesuk in 
the deep gutteral language of his tribe, 
‘‘the White Cloud knew he should see the 
Father once more.^^ 

The missionary sat down by his side and 
affectionately spoke words of consolation 
and peace to his listening ear, strengthened 
him with the holy oils and administered to 
him the Blessed Sacrament. A pressure 
from the trembling, dying hand thanked 
the good priest for this last good deed. 

At the door of the hut stood Walla, 
the Mestizo and urgently entreated the 
missionary to go to his old mother who 
was dying. The way was long and the 
afternoon was already far advanced when 


Father Ren^^s Last Journey, 111 

Father Rene on his way back from this 
second errand of mercy looked in once 
more on the old chief to give him a last 
farewell. He found him unconscious and 
knelt down to recommend the departing 
spirit to God; he had just risen from his 
prayer and was going away when the dying 
man opened his eyes and raised himself 
right up on the bed. It was as if for a 
moment his full strength had returned to 
him, for he took both the priest’s hands in 
his own, and with a strong voice and 
beaming eyes said: ^^The Father must not 
go back over the lake to-day. I hear a 
voice; it says he must not go.” 

^^Why not,” said Father Rene. ^^The 
Blackrobe has done all he can for the dying 
chief.” 

^‘Yfapekesuk is not thinking of himself,” 
answered the old man, ^^he is thinking of 
the Father whose life is precious. Listen, 
Blackrobe, listen, how the wind blows ; the 
spirit of the storm is riding on the clouds. 
Stay!” The last words faded away on the 
lips of the dying man, the light went out of 
his eyes, and the icy fingers loosened their 
grasp. Father Rene took the sinking form 


112 Father Renews Last Journey. 

in his arms and let it slip gently down 
again on the bed. Wapekesuk’s spirit had 
flown in the very moment he had pronounced 
the warning word. 

The missionary remained a little while 
longer, comforted those who were left 
behind, blessed the corpse and then set out 
bravely on his road home, intending to visit 
the sick maiden on the way. 

^ ^Father, said the eldest son of the dead 
man ^^be attentive to the words of the dying 
red man and stay the night in our wigwam.’^ 
cannot, I must go on,^^ said Father 
Een^, ^^Blackhair is calling for the Father 
and cannot die without him. Can I leave 
her to die forsaken 

^^Look, Father, how the snow flakes are 
falling thicker and thicker; the storm is 
coming from the hills it will overtake you. 
0 Father, do stay!^’ 

Father Rene broke away from him and 
hurried ofl in the direction of the lake, 
followed by the Indians who all pressingly 
besought him to stay, for the first howling 
shock of a fearful snow storm came over 
the lake. ‘‘Silence, children, it must be so ; 
my duty calls me. Q-od will protect me,’^ 


Father Renews Last Journey, 113 

The dogs began to whine. Sambo, the 
draught-hound, a strong powerful beast, 
pointed his ears as if listening to some 
distant sound, and looked up questioningly 
at his master with his bright, intelligent 
eyes. Father Rene dismissed the anxious 
Indians who wanted to accompany him 
even against his will. The whip cracked; 
the sledge flew swiftly as an arrow over the 
smooth-swept plains, and in a few minutes 
disappeared in the thick veil of the whirling 
snow flakes. 

Manschaquita lay ill, very ill on his little 
bed. Gegosasah still sat snoring by the 
fire holding her bony yellow hands over the 
embers. ^^Gegosasah, when will Father 
Rene come back?’’ said Manschaquita. He 
had been in a high fever for several hours 
and during his delirium he groaned heavily 
and said strange things. The old woman 
thinking he was still raving only shook her 
grey head and muttered to herself. 

^^Gegosasah,” repeated the boy, ^^when 
will Father Rene come back?” 

^^Hush, hush,” replied the old woman, 
^ ^Father Rene will not be back to-day.” 


114 Father Benias Last Journey. 

^^But he promised me when he went out 
that he ivould come back to-day.’^ 
^^Q-egosasah says he will not come/’ 
^^Why not, dear G-rannyr’ 

^ ^Because the storm is too heavy; the 
sharp wind lashes the dogs. Do you hear 
it howling? The Blackrobe is wise, he will 
wait till morning. But Manschaquita must 
sleep not talk,” added she breaking off 
abruptly. 

The boy was quiet. ^‘The little chief 
sleeps,” muttered the old woman, ^‘that is 
good.” Then she got up and went out of 
the room ; she was no sooner gone than the 
boy raised himself up and anxiously bending 
forward into the stormy night listened in 
the hope of catching the sound of the bell 
of the approaching team, or the crashing of 
the snowshoes on the frosty plain. Gradu- 
ally he sank down exhausted on his little 
bed and fell into a light sleep, out of which 
however he was soon awoke by the raging 
of the storm which now began to rave with 
the utmost violence. The wind howled all 
round the loghouse and whistled fearfully 
through all its cracks and crevices, like a 
pack of wolves. Sounds as if of cries of 


Father Renews Last Journey, 115 

rage, of scornful laughter, angry tumult, 
and of agony, all these mingled together 
formed that most dismal and unearthly 
night concert of a northern winter-storm. 

The boy listened breathless and with a 
throbbing heart and feverish pulse; an 
inexplicable fear and anxiety had seized 
upon him. Then all at once — hush! that 
was Samboes bark, the strong hollow bark 
of the Esquimaux dog. Manschaquita could 
have distinguished the voice of his favorite 
from among a hundred others. In the 
greatest excitement the boy strained his 
sharp sense of hearing to the utmost in 
order to catch the sound which at the same 
time awoke hope and fear. But hark ! there 
again — but this time the bark passed into 
long-drawn piteous howls and whining 
which appeared to die away more and more 
in the distance. What in the name of 
heaven could it mean? Why did not the 
sound come nearer? Why did it sound so 
pitiful as if in a death-agony? Was Father 
Ren^ in any danger? With a cry of distress 
the boy sprang from the bed and tried to 
go out and make known the danger and 
summ-on the men to the rescue. But a 


116 Father Renews Last Journey. 

faintness came over him and, as if caught 
in a whirlpool, he sank down on his bed 
unconscious. 

Several hours passed. Grradually the 
storm outside abated. Over head wild, 
ragged black clouds still chased each other 
in the heavens. The moon rose behind the 
mountains. It was midnight. The silvery 
light of the peaceful stars shone on branches 
of the ice-covered ancient firs. In the 
distance sounded the howling of wolves 
and from the neighboring lake the mys- 
terious cracking of the ice was to be heard. 
What was that out there on the brightly 
illuminated plain near the bank of the lake? 
It looked like a heap of snow in the shape 
of a grave and out of the snow thei’e was 
here an arm and there the edge of a black 
garment. Close by lay outstretched a strong, 
powerful dog keeping watch and pointing 
his ears to listen in the direction of the 
wood from whence came the howling of the 
wolves. 

How long Manschaquita had lain uncon- 
scious he knew not, but when he opened 
his eyes again he found himseK in bed in a 
brightly -lighted little room. The half- 


Father Renews Last Journey, 117 

burned pine logs on the hearth had fallen 
one on the other, and a tongue-shaped 
flame rose high out of the embers causing 
for a few moments so bright a light that all 
the objects in the room could be plainly 
distinguished, above all, however, a tall, 
slim priestly form with a fine shaped brow 
framed round with long locks of hair, was 
to be seen kneeling by the bed-side praying. 

Just then he looked up and Manschaquita 
gave a cry of joy, for it was no other than 
Father Kene himself with his pale, beautiful 
countenance and his large, dark eyes which 
with and indescribable expression of good- 
ness and love rested on the boy. ^‘Dear 
Father, when did you comeT^ exclaimed 
the boy joyfully and stretched out his arms 
which still trembled with the weakness 
from the fever. At that moment the flame 
sank on the hearth and the form dis- 
appeared with a last kind gesture. Was 
it a dream or was it reality? Manschaquita 
did not know. Filled with wonder he 
rubbed his eyes and stared about on all 
sides in the half-obscured room. Nowhere 
was there any trace of Father Eene. 

I awake or am I dreaming?^’ The 


118 Father Renews Last Journey, 

boy asked himself. He was wide awake, 
for he heard the wind outside, which still 
softly shook the doors and windows and he 
saw plainly as the flame flickered anew, the 
little crucifix on the wall which Father Eene 
had carved, the three-bright-colored pictures 
of saints which hung here and there, the 
low stool with the otter-skin where he used 
to sit by the fire and the mocassins which 
hung near the fire to dry. Whilst he was 
wondering and wondering and the thoughts 
were all jumbled together in his feverish 
brain ho sank unconsciously back on Ms 
bed again and fell off to sleep and only 
awoke when the red rays of the winter sun 
glimmered through the little window, and 
the murmuring of half-mufiled voices fr6m 
without fell upon his ear. Amongst the 
hard gutteral voices of his tribesmen, he 
heard the soft, gentle tones of a European. 

But it was not the voice of Father Eene. 
He would never hear that again. Manscha- 
quita could not distinguish what was said 
and felt himself too weak to get up. And it 
was fortunate for him that it was so, or the 
blow which awaited him might have struck 
him too suddenly and perhaps killed him. 


Father Reni^s Last Journey, 119 

At the open door of the little Mission 
chapel stood a group of Indians and Half- 
breeds who, wrapped up in their bright- 
colored woolen blankets and furs were 
whispering softly to one another and 
pointing repeatedly to the open door in a 
significant manner. There in the chapel a 
venerable priest with snow-white hair was 
bending over a dead body which lay in a 
roughly-made open coffin at the foot of the 
altar. Who was the priest and who was it 
that was dead! 

The priest was Father Grascon, the pastor 
of the nearest Opaschkwa-Mission — eighty 
miles off — ^^who came once or twice every 
year to visit Father Rene. Yesterday ^s 
storm had compelled him to stay the night 
in a camp a few miles off. This morning 
he came on to visit his dear friend and 
colleague. Who can describe his grief when 
he met the procession bearing the stiffened 
corpse along by the lake? Teokunko, the 
eldest son of the White Wolf,’’ who passed 
away to the G-reat Spirit yesterday, and his 
men had found the corpse. With great 
care they had searched for their beloved 
Father whose apostolical zeal had drawn 


120 Father Renews Last Journey, 

him out in the storm. The uncertainty as 
to the fate of the missionary had left the 
faithful red skins no rest. In the very 
early morning they went out to the lake 
and found to their intense grief the frozen 
corpse and the whining dog, which was 
still living. 

^^Come, Blackrobe,’’ said Teokunko to 
Father Grascon as he approached the spot 
with tears in his eyes, ^^come, I will show 
you how Father Rene died.’’ 

Father Grascon knew the wonderful in- 
stinct of the Indians and followed his leader 
silently accompanied by a troop of Indians 
and Mestizos who wanted to see what had 
happened to their Father. They went first 
to the other side of the lake and then came 
back by the way which Father Rene had 
taken. Now Teokunko began to display 
that wonderful, sharp sense which nature 
and long usage give to the sons of the 
wilderness in such an extraordinary degree. 

He followed with an almost incredible 
exactitude the tracks which to the inexperi- 
enced eyes of the European, seemed wholly 
obliterated by the storm-winds, he depicted 
all the details of the misfortune as intuitively 


Father Renews Last Journey. 121 

and with as great a precision as if he had 
seen it all with his own eyes. 

^^Here the Blackrobe disappeared from 
our sight,’’ then, after following the faint 
marks silently for nearly an hour, he stood 
still and pointing to the ground said: ^^Here 
the Father stopped and turned his back for 
the first time to the violence of the storm.” 

The other red skins looked closely at the 
spot and nodded approvingly. 

^‘Here,” went on Teokunko in a most 
reverential tone, after having gone on from 
twenty to thirty paces, ‘Tiere, our Father 
knelt down to pray.” 

The young Indian sank on his knees and 
kissed the spot of which his sharp eye 
pointed out the traces. This made a deep 
impression on the bystanders and the 
savages who are ordinarily so very in- 
different, muttered the ^^Haua,” their 
expression of sympathetic admiration. 
Teokunko raised himself up in order to 
continue his graphic description. The 
traces went now in a confused zigzag. Here 
began the struggle for life *, the struggle of 
a strong, vigorous God-trusting soul with 
the wild power of the elements, was here 


122 Father Renews Last Journey, 

delineated in ice and snow in transient, 
half-mixed marks. But Teokunko read 
them as an adept reads an old, nearly 
obliterated manuscript. Here the Father 
fell again, scrambled up and pressed on 
again. But the raging whirlwind was too 
strong for him. Shorter and shorter became 
the steps by which he fought his way inch 
by inch. — There is the spot where he 
fell down never to rise again. Extreme 
exhaustion and the icy wind which blinds 
the eyes, chokes the breath, penetrates into 
the very marrow of the bones and stagnates 
the blood in the veins, had at last conquered 
his brave and devoted heart. Here, in the 
morning, Teokunko and his companions 
found the corpse already stiff and as white 
as marble, with the hands folded on the 
breast as if in prayer and the beautiful 
countenance peaceful and undisfigured in 
spite of his terrible death, turned towards 
heaven where his last pious thoughts were 
directed. 

It was a most impressive moment. Father 
G-ascon and his companions stood for a few 
moments in silence and their lips moved as 
they softly breathed a prayer. Then the 


Father Renews Last Journey. 123 

men went back to the little village and 
entered the chapel where the poor Indians 
had already streamed in on all sides to look 
once more on the dead body of their beloved 
pastor. Never more would those stiffened 
hands dispense to them the Bread of Life, 
never again would those lips now blanched 
in death speak to them of the Grreat Spirit. 
The career of the apostle was finished. He 
had been cut off in the prime of life — a 
victim to his great zeal and faithfulness to 
duty. Two days later his remains were 
consigned to earth on the little hill by the 
banks of the lake. A large, old fir tree 
stands near his grave and a liigh wooden 
cross points out to the sons of the wilderness 
from a long distance off, the place where 
their Father has found his last resting-place. 

It was quite a providential circumstance 
that Father Grascon happened to come into 
the village just at that time, for he was able 
to comfort the poor sorrowing Indians and 
he took the pyx containing the Blessed 
Sacrament with great reverence from the 
bosom of the deceased and bore the heavenly 
Guest to the dying girl whose appeal for 


124 Father Renews Last Journey. 

help had decided Father Eene on risking 
such a perilous journey. 

It was Father Gascon also who informed 
the sick boy in the most careful manner of 
the death of the dear friend and benefactor 
whom he loved with all the ardor of his 
most noble and grateful heart. ^^He is 
gone, Manschaquita, where no winter storms 
rage, but an eternal spring smiles, where 
he is with the Great Spirit eternally and 
infinitely happy. From thence he looks 
down on Mansehaquita like a star of light 
and reminds him to keep true to the holy 
faith which he taught him.’^ Poor child, 
he sadly needed consolation ! 

Twelve years later when the summer sun 
was shining on the crystal-bright mirror of 
the White Sv/an Lake, when all around the 
woody heights were green again, and forests 
and ravines re-echoed with the joyful shots 
of the young warriors, the first Blackrobe 
out of the tribe of the Chippewas made his 
entrance into the valley and proceeded to 
the village. That was Mansehaquita, the 
young chief. 





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